


we were warriors once

by Erisid (Everlast), Everlast



Series: you only know what you want to know (and not what you want to see) [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Espionage, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-20 09:05:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everlast/pseuds/Erisid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everlast/pseuds/Everlast
Summary: They were done with it. The world of epsionage was a thing of the past. But twenty years later when Clarke and Lexa's daughter Costia delves into the world her mothers had forsaken, they are suddenly more embroiled than they were before.On the heels of this revelation, a ghost of Lexa's past returns to haunt her. And when agents begin disappearing out of nowhere, Clarke and Lexa have no choice but to return from retirement to find out who is hunting their friends.Sequel to Finding Jake





	1. Prologue

It was a starless night. The moon climbed high in the dark sky, its shining face only barely within view as the clouds lingered above. Below, the New York skyline glittered across the water. Few people remained on the streets, the late – or early – hour during a weekday no less contributing to the unusualness of the night. Along the streets, rarely a car drove by. A lone cyclist pedaled up a hill, and if not for the minute creaking and scattering of animals striding quickly through the concrete jungle, there would be no life.

Deep in the heart of Manhattan, an owl perched on a great oak tree. Its orange eyes were wide, watching with care. It had trained its eyes on a scurrying movement at the roots. There, a tail was seen, and then a whisker next. Yet the owl waited. Waited until the moment came that the rodent, in its sudden boldness, moved cautiously towards the lure of food. It stood still, hunched over its find, whiskers moving hyperactively as it quickly devoured the tiny seed. There was a moment, its nose lifted, sniffing the air, and yet it scented nothing in the air.

Without a sound, the owl glided below. There was a shrill squeak of pain, then silence came upon the street once more.

However, silence was always a rarity in the city.

Suddenly, a man hurtled around the corner of the street, his thick tree-trunk legs pumping with fervor as he ran. He turned left into the alley, looking over his shoulder. Seeing no one hardly stilled his panic, his eyes shining with pure fear, his mouth open and panting in the night as he evaded an unseen foe.

He continued running down the alley, his footsteps loud as he ran full tilt in his fear. He looked over his shoulder once, twice more, and finally the evidence before his eyes seemed to assuage his panic. He slowed to a trot, and looked ahead, then behind. No one was there. He let out a breath of relief, but in that next second, he thought he saw a bright flash of light at the corner of his eyes and heard an engine revving, and before he could react, a gargantuan pain collided into him.The impact threw him over the vehicle, and he dropped to the ground unconscious.

The headlights shone a bright white. A figure stepped out of the black sedan, and with a slow, casual gait, the lean muscled hunter strode over to the man and yanked the limp body up and onto the hood of the car. The hunter, dressed in black, face covered, delivered a lightning-fast strike upon the man’s face, jolting him into consciousness.  
The instant his eyes opened and looked upon the masked face of his aggressor, released a shrill cry of fear. That would not do. The hunter grabbed him by the jacket and slammed him onto the hood, his neck whipping back as the back of his head hit the windshield with a bone-crunching crack.

“I don’t know anything, I swear!” He screamed. Tears streamed down his face, blood seeping from the back of his skull and on his hands.

“I’m not interested in playing games.” The distorted voice snapped, green eyes cold and calculating as the dark figure struck him a third time across the face.

“I only know what the Don tells Antonio, I swear I only know that much!” The man shrieked, pleading and begging until the hunter grew remarkably irate. Without a word, the hunter reached behind their belt, and pulled out a handgun, silencer already screwed onto the barrel of the weapon. The sight of the pistol only reduced the man to more tears and pleading, and the hunter was finished with this shit.

The dark figure pointed the weapon at his head, finger already closing in on the trigger. “I’ll give you three seconds to give me what I want, or I’ll make you beg for death.” The man’ s brown eyes widened, and his mouth opened, yet for all his cowardice and his will to live, nothing came out but what the hunter had known before. “I only know the shipments come in twice a week in freight containers.”

The hunter rolled their eyes, and promptly withdrew the weapon, to the man’s momentary relief. That relief was quickly dashed when instead the hunter pointed at his leg, and shot out his kneecap. The scream of pain was quickly silenced by direct punch to his face, sending teeth and blood flying in the air. “It seems that you like to waste time, time I don’t have.” The hunter coldly returned the weapon to the back of their belt, only to replace it with a knife in their gloved hand. “Tell me what I want to know.”

“Fuck you!” The man screamed this time, and the hunter hid their momentary surprise at his boldness, before casually plunging the knife into his hand. Before he could make any other noise, she delivered a swift uppercut, followed by a jab that knocked him off the car completely. As he fell, he attempted to crawl away, but his injured leg did not get him farther than an inch, and the hunter easily caught up, stomping on the knife still puncturing his hand. In the next second, the hunter kicked the man in the stomach, the action flipping him onto his back. The hunter raised an eyebrow at him, and this time there was no fooling around.

The hunter reached down and retrieved the knife, and as he shrieked in pain, the dark figure only moved to wipe the man’s blood off the blade and onto his pants leg without a care in the world. “Well I enjoyed this talk, thanks for the hunt.” The hunter looked down imperiously at their prey, and in that instant they saw the man’s fortitude crack.  
“The drugs are stored in the mattresses!” He shouted, and this caught the hunter’s attention. Desperate to make a case for his life, he continued, “The Don’s furniture business is just a front for smuggling the drugs in the mattresses when at sea.” The hunter made an uninterested noise at the back of their throat, and he shouted “The Customs guys who check the containers are with us! We own them!” Tears were flowing freely down his face. “Please, please don’t kill me! I have a wife and two boys!”

“Well maybe you should have thought of them before you decided to get in bed with the Mafia.” The hunter growled, delivering a heavy blow to his head, knocking him out.  
The hunter sheathed the knife, and with practiced hands began to empty the man’s jacket and pants pockets. Finding a wallet, the hunter carelessly threw it over their shoulder, continuing to rummage through the man’s belongings. Coming across a cellphone, the hunter finally released a sigh of success, and stood, leaning against the car.  
Nimble fingers navigated the phone, going through call history, contacts, and text messages. The hunter was ready to call it a night when a new message flashed across the screen. The hunter opened the message, and a sudden fear gripped the hunter’s heart.

-Anya Rivers confirmed missing. No sign in months. Collect payment.-

The hunter bagged the phone, and quickly jumped into the sedan, driving off into the distance and leaving the limp body behind.

Once in the car, the hunter removed the mask and the voice distorter. Her eyes were murky with fear, and she pressed the call button on the steering wheel, desperate to confirm something she had hoped was not true.

“This is Delmar.”

“Director, this is Agent Costia Woods-Griffin.” She inhaled shakily. “Your agent, Anya Rivers, when’s the last time she’s contacted her handler?”

“Not for months.” The Director responded. There was a pause, then “What did you find?”

“A text message stating that she hasn’t been seen, and that the Don wants a payment to be collected.”

There was a flurry of curse words on the other line, then “You need to come in.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was a beautiful day in Verona, the sun was shining down on the vineyard, the cattle grazed, and the wind blew carelessly with reckless abandon. Livestock murmured and the breeze swayed the branches on this lazy midsummer day as the sun slowly made its descent from the horizon.Atop a hill overlooking the acres and acres of land, a solitary horse and rider stood still as a statute. The horse sniffed the air, dependable and steady, and his rider sat proudly atop. The rider’s dark brown curls flowed in the wind, her eyes looking upon her kingdom with a haughty nonchalance. Beyond a few frown lines and the tell-tale signs of aging, Lexa looked as she had in her younger days. Her cheekbones were sharper, her muscles slightly smaller but still lean and taut from years of hard training.

Lexa inhaled loudly, taking it all in as she sat upon her grey Andalusian stallion, his ears pricked and alert, intelligent brown eyes scanning the horizon. When his rider exhaled loudly, he cocked one disbelieving eye up at her, and Lexa laughed. “Okay, I’ll be quieter when voicing my gratification.” She chuckled, and the horse snorted. She was talking to a horse. This was her life now. Twenty four years of retired life, and this is what she does with her free time. Ride horses and sigh with discontent.

Then again, her horse was her only source for conversation these past few days, other than their neighbors, and they were a pain in Lexa’s ass. She winced slightly just recalling the argument she’d had with her wife a few days ago. Clarke had been adamant, unyielding in her stance, and Lexa had nothing to say to counter her.  
That’s why, instead of accompanying her – arguably much better – other half to visit her mother in the city, Lexa was sitting on her horse watching over the estate in the countryside. The better end of the deal, in Lexa’s opinion, but she was careful to voice such vitriol before her fuming wife.

Things had gotten stale in the past few months, hell in the past few years. Lexa amounted that to the fact that their daughter had flown the coop. That, and retired life was not exactly working out for Lexa in the way that she had expected it to. She had known, all those years ago when she had joined the agency that she had that itch that would not go away. It was an itch that the instructors at the DIA had praised, had said made her different, special. They didn’t however, say that it would be a pain in the ass when you’re in your forties and you should be content with the life you have. Those words were Clarke’s, spoken only days before, after she had caught Lexa fiddling with her old Walther PPK/S in the barn.

* * *

 

“What are you doing?” Clarke’s voice startled her, and Lexa almost dropped the old handgun in her haste to hide it behind her back. Obviously, it was not successful.

“Just um…going through some old things?” Lexa answered, the inflection in her tone turning the statement into a question under her wife’s suspicious gaze.

“Really?” Clarke stood at the barn’s threshold, leaning against it casually. Twenty four years barely took their toll on her, if anything Clarke only looked more radiant, sharper and bolder than she had in her twenties. Long, tanned legs were on display under a summer dress, the woman’s blonde hair blowing gently in the breeze as she scrutinized her guilty-looking wife standing in front of her.

Lexa gulped slightly, rubbing at the back of her neck with her free hand. “Yes, of course. I was,” She made a show of being busy, standing and taking hold of a nearby saddle. “I was checking to see if this old thing needed repairs, the pommel was looking a little ratty.”

“Um-hm.” Clarke pushed off of the wall, stalking up to her wife like a panther would its prey, her eyes gleaming with a knowing look. Yet, she didn’t seem to push the subject, and to Lexa’s surprise she moved closer, and closer, until their chests were touching and Clarke’s hands were on her hips. Struck by the closeness, Lexa could do nothing but stare down into those beautiful blue eyes and fall in love with the woman who held her heart in her hands. Clarke’s nose brushed against the tip of Lexa’s, and she closed her eyes as they breathed the same air, inhaling and exhaling as one. Their foreheads touched, and Lexa felt soft lips press gently against hers. The other woman’s hands gently curved around her, and in that moment Lexa had a moment of clarity and immediately dropped the handgun before her suspecting wife could brush her fingers across the smooth metal of the weapon.

But her wife was no fool. “You were looking at your Walther again, weren’t you?” Lexa’s eyes widened, and she was met with eyes alight with anger. “I was just looking, that’s all.” Lexa defended herself, and Clarke huffed and wrenched away from Lexa’s grasp before the other woman could react.

“You told me that you were done with that life, that you were finished.” Clarke said hotly, her arms crossed as she glared daggers at her wife.

“I know, I was there.” Lexa grunted, and she bent down to retrieve the fallen handgun before standing at her full height again. “And I meant it, Clarke.” She shook her head, looking down at the cold metal in her hands. “Looking at this doesn’t mean I want to go back to that.” Lexa refused to meet Clarke’s eyes, and the younger woman rolled her eyes.  
“Yet you won’t even look at me when you say that, and the guilty expression on your face begs to differ.” Clarke looked down at her feet, biting her lip. “Lexa, I know what you’re thinking.” She took a step, bridging some of the distance between them. “Ever since Costia walked out that door and joined the FBI, you’ve been looking for a way back.” Even as Lexa shook her head, Clarke forged on ruthlessly. “You’re in your forties Lex, we both are. You can’t go back there. Cos doesn’t even know we were involved!”

“Enough! You’ve made your point.” Lexa snapped, her eyes flashing with annoyance as they darted up to meet Clarke’s challenge. But when she looked at her wife, all she saw was concern mixed with anger, and the blonde moved closer. “Lexa, please, talk to me?” Her hands reached for Lexa’s, who didn’t flinch nor move away when she finally clasped her hands over the handgun and relieved her of the burden that weighed down on her. Clarke looked down at the Walther, her familiarity with it a jarring reminder of the lives they had once led. She swallowed thickly and placed it on the nearby table, and focused on the woman before her.

“I’m…just going through old things.” Lexa sighed her confession into the warm air. “Things from New York, the old place...” She gestured to the open box, to photographs that documented a life with Clarke, with Costia. “I miss her.” Lexa said, and this time it was Clarke who sighed.

“I know, I miss her too.” Clarke said quietly. “With every second, there’s not a moment where I wish we could have done better to convince her to stay.” Slowly, Clarke moved closer, reaching out to gently take Lexa’s hand in hers. “But we’ve built a home here,” She said gently, “a place that will always be safe for Costia when she returns. Safe from anything that could chase us from the past.” She added, throwing a significant look at her wife. Lexa nodded, and she exhaled breathily before seeming to shake it off, all the nostalgia that had come to haunt her.

“I know, you’re right.” Lexa sighed, and she pulled Clarke close, wrapping her arms around the younger woman. “She made her choice.” Lexa stated. After a pause, the silence thick and hanging, Lexa sighed “I’m sorry,” into the air, and Clarke simply tightened her hold around the brunette’s waist.

“Just promise me you won’t start thinking about going back.” Clarke said quietly. “Because if you do, then so will I.”

Lexa swallowed the lump in her throat, and she loosened her hold on Clarke until they were eye-to-eye again. “You know I can’t promise that.” She said, and the words dropped like lead before them. Clarke’s eyes turned into chips of ice, and without a word, the woman turned on her heel and walked out of the barn.

She would maintain her silence for the next three days.

 

* * *

 

 

“She’s right, you know.” Lexa said to her horse, who at this point had dropped his head to graze as his rider thumbed the shotgun strapped to the saddle absentmindedly as she reflected on her recent troubles with her long-suffering wife. Lexa’s sharp green eyes scanned the horizon, wistful and regretful. “I don’t know why I just can’t let it go.” She said, her voice low. “I’ve forsaken everything from that life, the missions, the blood, the bullets.” She wrung the leather reins in her hand.

The last rays of the sun bled across the grass, and Lexa watched the slow descent with a distracted eye. She huffed, continuing her train of thought to her audience of one. “But there’s this…lingering feeling, like there’s some unfinished business that I’m supposed to deal with.” She heard the light padding of hooves to her right, and she didn’t turn her head, though her steed’s nicker of recognition confirmed what she already had known for a while since she had started to speak.

Quietly, Clarke joined her at her perch. Lexa didn’t acknowledge her wife, and instead they observed their newfound kingdom together until the silence was no longer comfortable. “Why couldn’t you just tell me all this a few days ago?” Clarke broke the silence, but even she did not look at her wife, fiddling with the reins of her tiger dun mare instead.

Lexa sighed, and silently reached out a calloused hand, which Clarke took without second thought. “I just didn’t know how to put what I felt into words.” She admitted, and Clarke’s fingers tightened around her hand. Lexa squeezed back with the same tenderness, and finally looked at her wife, who met her halfway. “I don’t know what it is, Clarke. But something just doesn’t feel right.” She confessed. Clarke pursed her lips tightly, then she swallowed and nodded. “Then we’ll figure it out.” The other woman said. “I’ll get in touch with Raven.” Lexa opened her mouth to protest, but Clarke shook her head. “I know we agreed that we wouldn’t contact the ones who were still in the game, even Cos, but if what you’re feeling is related to what we did before this,” Clarke gestured with her other hand to the expanse of their home, “then we can break our one rule, just this once.”

Lexa met Clarke’s determined gaze, and she smiled affectionately at her. “Thank you.” Clarke rolled her eyes, and she returned the tender smile. “Just kiss me.” She requested, and Lexa readily leaned forward to meet her wife’s waiting lips.


	3. Chapter 3

The gloved fist came screaming at her face.

Duck.

Another came, this time a swift jab that forced her to stop reacting and be proactive instead.

Costia lifted both gloved hands to block the jab, and her opponent pressed her advantage, sending her a flurry of punches at her. Sweat dripped down her face, her hands drenched and her neck wet with perspiration as she weaved and bobbed expertly to avoid blow after blow. Gritting her teeth, Costia waited, and when her sparring partner revealed a slight opening at their left side, she struck. A solid blow to the ribs. She exhaled as she punched, and she dimly heard the other girl huff in pain.

With a smug grin, Costia lowered one hand and sent a fist straight at the other girl’s face. She hit her target right on the nose, and the grunt of exclamation was enough to egg her on. Costia pushed forward, a lightning-quick upper cut sending the girl falling back against the ropes.

Her opponent finally lifted both hands, a look of resignation on her face as she admitted defeat. “Okay, I give up Cos.” Costia grinned cockily, walking over to tap gloves with the other agent.

“Thanks for the ego-boost Avery.” She smiled as she helped the girl stand up. Avery showed her tongue at Costia good-humoredly, using her teeth to tear the Velcro on her gloves. Costia ducked under the ropes, holding them up for Avery, who followed suit with a quick murmur of thanks.

“No problem, I guess lasting even five minutes against Miss ‘Top of her Class at the Farm and International Krav Maga champion’ is a victory in its own way.” Avery said wryly, affectionately shoving the younger girl’s shoulder. Costia puffed her chest in mock haughtiness, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Well yes, you did last five minutes in the ring. Which is longer than you last in bed.” At that, Avery gasped in mock offense, her blue eyes narrowing at her. “Speak for yourself!” She scoffed, and Costia rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Do you really want to get into who takes longer to get off?” The question was rhetorical, and Avery gave her a lopsided grin in return, mouth opening to answer anyway when the humming of a vibrating phone filled the empty gym.

Both agents moved to their bags, but it was Costia’s phone that was ringing. “Who’s calling at this hour?” Avery asked in exasperation, but Costia deigned to answer it without a second thought.

“Agent Woods-Griffin.”

“There’s a briefing tomorrow at 0800, be there.” Her boss circumvented the need for pleasantries, getting right into the reason for the late night call.

“Yes ma’am.” At those words, Avery narrowed her eyes, mouthing ‘what’s happening’, which was promptly ignored.

“Bring Blake as well.” The Director added. “We need all hands on deck with this thing.” With that, the call ended, leaving Costia to bring Avery up to speed.

“Boss called, we have a meeting bright and early tomorrow at 8am.” The other girl groaned loudly.

“Seriously? But it’s my day off tomorrow.” Costia rolled her eyes, nudging the other agent in the calf with her shoe. “Shut up, you’re always complaining about having nothing to do on your days off anyway.”

“Well yeah, but making me go to a mandatory meeting on my day off just makes it more tedious.” Avery explained with a loud sigh, and Costia smiled despite the seriousness of the conversation she just had with the Director. “Oh please, you’re just as desperate to find out where Aunt Anya is just as much as I am.” Costia said, her words taking a more serious tone. The mock annoyance on Avery’s face dropped down into a frown. There was a hint of concern creeping into her eyes as she clenched her jaw tightly, refusing to confirm verbally what she already had physiologically. “Why do you think the Don wants to capitalize on her disappearance?” Avery asked, a slight wobble of worry in her tone.  
“I don’t know.” Costia sighed, frustration evident in her tone. “She used to do undercover work, posing as a gun for hire a few years back.” Her brows furrowed in thought. “Maybe the Don put a contract out on her when she worked a hit for the Portuguese instead.”

“But she’s missing Costia.” Avery countered. “It’s not like there was proof of death, the text only said she hadn’t been seen in months.”

“I know.” Costia snapped, and Avery crossed her arms with her eyes narrowed at her, and all the fight went out of the brunette. “I’m sorry.” She offered curtly. “I’ve just been through every single scenario possible, and it just doesn’t make sense.”

Avery cautiously laid a hand on Costia’s shoulder comfortingly. Physical contact between the two of them was rare. Ever since meeting at the Farm, the two girls had become inseparable , finding an instant connection on the training ground. It also helped that their brains more or less operated at the same whirring level, making field ops a seamless perfection, and their partnership a well-oiled machine. The magnitude of Avery initiating contact was great, and Costia offered her a weak smile in return. “You’ll figure it out.” Avery said matter-of-factly, her voice brisk with confidence. “You always do.”

“And I guess we’ll have more information tomorrow at the briefing.” Costia noted, and Avery raised an eyebrow at her expectantly. Costia stuck out her tongue at the other girl, and she added, “And thank you for being supportive.”

“Well obviously,” despite her hair being in an immaculate bun, Avery mimed glamorously throwing her hair over her shoulder. “I am the Queen at talking you down.” Costia groaned in mock annoyance and picked up her bag, making a beeline for the door that had Avery rushing to follow. “Hey slow down! You’re my ride!”

“Then hurry up!”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hurry up!” Clarke shouted over her shoulder as she ran. Her runners hardly made a sound as she loped up the dirt path. The sun was shining, there was a light breeze, and Clarke inhaled the fresh air greedily as she continued her morning jog-well run. Especially since she had company today.

Behind her, she heard a curse word then grumbling about rabbits and the intense desire to nuke every single one in the world. Clarke grinned, casually looking over her shoulder to see Lexa catching up to her, her strides long and ground-eating despite the delay.

“You know, that rabbit was technically there first.” Clarke commented once her wife caught up to her.

“It’s a road, Clarke.” Lexa argued. “They shouldn’t be there in the first place.” Clarke snorted, and she elbowed the other woman in the side. “Well maybe you should have kept your eyes on where you were going, instead of elsewhere.”

“You mean your ass?” Lexa intoned suggestively, eyebrows raised as Clarke released a peal of laughter.

“Yes I mean my ass.” She chuckled, and Lexa smirked despite herself.

“Well it’s a fine ass, it’s not my fault you were sashaying up the hill like that.” Clarke scoffed at her, reaching over to elbow her again.

“You’re just sour because I was faster than you.”

“Fat chance.” Lexa growled, but there was a twinkle of amusement in her eye and a smile that was threatening to crack, and Clarke just shook her head in mock-disdain. She was about to counter when Lexa suddenly bolted forward. “Best two out of three!” She shouted back at her, and Clarke rolled her eyes before racing after her up the path.  
By the time they reached the house, the two were out of breath, slowing down to a light jog as they reached the front gate side-by-side. Lexa wiped the sweat off her forehead, huffing a little harder than she had when she was young. There was a slight hitch in her breathing, and Clarke gave her a look.

“I told you to take it easy.” Clarke said, the admonition as thin as a sheet of ice but still present in the inflection of her voice. Lexa made a face at her. “It’s not a big deal.” She grunted, and focused her attention instead on stretching out her quad while Clarke walked through the gate to fetch them both some water.

“Just don’t complain about it when we go out later.” Clarke said as she walked back, unscrewing the lid from the bottle and offering Lexa a swig. “We still have that opera thing tonight with my mom.”

“Ugh don’t remind me.” Lexa groaned, switching legs as she accepted the water as the other woman poured some down her open mouth, one hand on Clarke’s shoulder to balance. “Four hours of guys shouting at each other. Tell me again why we agreed to this?”

“Because you complained about never going out after 8pm remember?” Clarke chuckled lightly as Lexa sighed before pressing her forehead against Clarke’s shoulder in resignation.

“Why do I always end up regretting what I say?” Lexa lamented, and Clarke smirked, her eyes on the lean muscled figure on display as the brunette stretched out her hamstring.  
“Well maybe,” Clarke stretched out a hand, surprising Lexa when she reached out and squeezed her ass, “I can make it worth your while.” She batted her eyelashes seductively at Lexa, who had jolted up to look at her, and Clarke saw her wife’s green eyes darken with want. Lexa shuffled closer to Clarke, their noses brushing lightly, lips close. “Hmmm I like where this is going.” Lexa intoned, the timbre of her voice lowering with lust, and when Clarke lightly brushed her lips against Lexa’s, the brunette opened her mouth to deepen the kiss.

She just felt the tip of Clarke’s tongue against hers when the blonde suddenly withdrew, bolting into the house. “Race you to the shower!” Clarke called over her shoulder, a seductive wink thrown at Lexa before she hurried into the house.

Lexa watched her go with a chuckle, feeling the heat pooling between her legs at the sight of Clarke, and with a grin she raced after her.

 

Much later, Lexa sighed with satisfaction, eyes closed as she lay on her stomach, the light breeze blowing at the sheen of sweat on her skin. Clarke’s cheek pressed against her shoulder blade, her breath tickling the back of her neck. “I’m impressed.” Clarke said breathily, her breasts moving against Lexa’s back as she spoke. “Seriously,” She pressed a lingering kiss on the brunette’s spine. “That was a full blown marathon.”

“A sexy marathon.” Lexa practically purred, hardly moving a muscle. She was exhausted, but in the best way possible. “It’s good recovery for the run.” She jested, and Clarke laughed as she molded herself against Lexa’s back.

“I agree,” Her fingers played with the divots and bumps on Lexa’s skin. “We should do this more often.” Lexa hummed, content to simply lie in bed with her wife all day. Their legs tangled under the sheets, and Clarke gently brushed her lips against Lexa’s neck. The reaction was immediate, the hitching of her wife’s breath, the flushing of her skin, and Clarke gave an experimental roll of her hips into Lexa’s lower back, which extricated a moan. Her fingers drifted from Lexa’s waist to her lower abdomen, and found her more than ready for her. Easily, Clarke rolled Lexa onto her back, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her lips. Lexa returned it with equal vigor, her hands wrapping around her waist and pulling her into her lap as the kiss became a desperate gnashing of teeth and tongues. The feel of Lexa’s skin pressed hot against her set Clarke wild, she wanted more. Releasing Lexa’s lip from her teeth, she maintained eye contact with her as she moved down, kissing her way between the valley of her breasts. Lexa moaned at the feel of Clarke’s tongue below her navel, head falling back against the pillow.

She teased with her fingers and tasted with her mouth, until Lexa groaned breathily with need. “Please, Clarke.” She panted, and then she was falling, crashing as Clarke finally gave her what her body shook and sweat for.

Clarke pressed gentle kisses as she made her way back up to Lexa, her eyes soft as the brunette slowly came down from the high of her orgasm. When she finally had caught her breath, Lexa craned her neck up to kiss the smug look from her wife.  
“So do we still have to meet your mom?” Lexa broke away to ask, and Clarke laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa tightened the cinch, fingers working in their own rhythm as she tacked up for another day out in the fields. Shadow, her every patient steed, snorted lightly at her as took longer than usual. She patted his neck as a conciliatory gesture, her movements slower today because of the aches and pains left behind from yesterday’s…workout.

She had just swung up into the saddle when Clarke was rushing up to her, phone in one hand and the other in a fist. Lexa immediately sat at full height, body alert as she observed the sudden panic and anger emanating off of her wife in waves. “Cl-”

“It’s Raven.” She cut off the other woman before she could get a word out. “She said Anya’s been missing for three months.” Lexa’s eyes widened in almost comical fashion, and if not for the dire situation Clarke would have laughed. Lexa opened and closed her mouth a few times before she said “Why are we just hearing about it now?” Clarke clenched her jaw, the expression on her face growing increasingly angrier. “The agency probably didn’t want to panic anyone, so they didn’t even tell Raven until a few days ago.” She explained. “Raven had just assumed that Anya was still working on an op.” Lexa narrowed her eyes, her mouth tightened into a thin line.

“What does she know so far?”

“Just that Anya’s been MIA, and that apparently even the underbelly of the criminal world is starting to take notice.”

“What the fuck.” Lexa swung out of the saddle, her boots causing a minor dust storm as she landed with both heels firmly planted on the ground. “What has the agency been doing this whole time?”

Clarke threw up her hands, blue eyes ablaze with fury. “Your guess is as good as mine!” She hissed. “Raven’s gone out of her mind worrying.” She paced, Lexa’s eyes following her movements. “Apparently she’s not the only agent missing either.”

“What?” Lexa put out a hand to stop her wife, heart suddenly thundering against her chest.

“I spoke to Luna right after Raven called. Agents from other groups, FBI, CIA, ASIS, DIA, they’re all disappearing.” Clarke said, biting her lip with worry. “Lex, what if Cos-”

“Stop.” Lexa said. Her heart was in her throat, dread filling her from her head to her toes. “We can’t assume she’s missing too. Not without proof.”

“Well then we need to find proof!” Clarke snapped, edgy and wild with nerves, and Lexa stepped back before being consumed by the fire before her.

“Okay.” She put her hands palm up in front of her. “I agree.” She looked earnestly at her, and Clarke nodded. They stared hard, hardly breaking eye contact, and it was a tennis match of wills. It was Lexa that broke. “Fine,” she shook her head; there was no hiding the smirk on Clarke’s face as she admitted defeat. “We’ll both go.” Clarke cracked her knuckles, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t feeling that surge of excitement. That exhilaration she always got when handed a new mission. She hated herself for it, but she knew the stakes. This was a mission they could not fail, not if they wanted to see Costia or Anya again. When she met Lexa’s steely-eyed determination, she knew that she was thinking the same thing, and she twisted her lips into a wry smile. “Looks like we’re both coming out of retirement then.”

Lexa snorted, and then cocked her chin in decisively. “I guess it was fun while it lasted.”

“Hmm.” Clarke shook her head, and the next words that came out of her lips were ones she thought she never would have to say again. “Go get the Walther.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Since December of last year, operatives from multiple different agencies have been reported missing.” Luna’s voice was steely. Her feet were planted shoulder width apart, arms crossed as she stood at the head of the boardroom. Seated and clustered around the long table were agents and analysts, eyes following Luna as she paced in front of the projector. Costia leaned against the wall of the boardroom, Avery standing next to her as they watched the DIA General continue the briefing, stopping momentarily to glare at Costia’s boss – FBI Director Lorin Dayne. Dayne was the youngest, most ruthless stoic handlers Costia had had in her four years with the Bureau, and as Lorin had climbed the ladder to Director, she had offended some long-standing alliances with other agencies with her radical approach at leadership. Alliances made with benevolent leaders such as the DIA General Luna Delmar.  It came as no surprise to Costia that the two leaders did not get along, not when Luna had always stressed the importance of discovering alternative solutions without any loss of life. With her vigor and ambition, Lorin often made controversial decisions that saved many, but at the cost of others. And that kind of tactic was something Costia had quite the intimate experience with.

Costia remembered _that_ fateful mission well. And that was because it still haunted her. It had been a joint operation, and when Costia and the DIA operative were met with much more resistance than anticipated, Dayne had ordered her to leave the other operative behind in favor of gathering intel.  Dayne was ruthless, and at many instances Anya had been worried that her ruthlessness was rubbing off on Costia. The older agent had pulled her aside after the debriefing, a worried expression marring her sharp features. “I know for a fact that you didn’t make that call.” She stated rather than questioned. Costia pursed her lips, when just moments before in that small stuffy room, she had covered for her Director.

 It had been a matter of loyalty, and that scrutinizing look on Anya’s face seemed to identify it within heartbeats. “I did what I had to do. For the mission.” Costia squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. That action however, only brought her quickly bruising eye to greater attention, and Anya’s hand was on her chin, keeping her head still as she inspected it. Her grip was firm but gentle all at once, and Costia felt like a child again under her former mentor’s caring gaze. “ _Don’t lose yourself, just to please others_.” Anya said quietly to her, and in that moment Costia had almost allowed the dampness welling in her eyes to tumble down to her cheeks.

A hard elbow against her ribs jolted Costia out of the memory, and she shot Avery a grateful look before she redirected her attention to the presentation.

The General nodded once at her aide, and the slide changed, showing the headshots of the missing operatives.

Costia clenched her jaw when she caught sight of Anya’s photograph. Unbidden, the last time they had spoken flashed at the back of her head, but she brushed it away for now.

 Beside her she could feel Avery – and every other agent – shudder as gruesome images came up on the screen of bloody body parts. “In January, we received a few…human parts. But not enough to definitively make a positive identification to determine if they’re our missing guys or not. ” Luna said, and even she looked ill when she glanced back at a badly decomposed human torso on the screen.

“Yesterday, the NYPD pulled a body from the Hudson, they couldn’t ID him because he was one of ours –”

“Gustus Marks.” Dayne interrupted rudely, pushing off from where she was leaning against the wall. The five-foot-ten FBI Director inched over to Luna’s side, the energy in the room crackling as she fixed her icy blue eyes on the agents around them. “He’d been working an angle for our white collar division when he went missing two weeks ago.”

The slide changed to photographs of the dead agent’s body. Clearly Gustus had seen better days. His face was unrecognizable, which indicated that he must have been dumped in the river for some time. Barely there but still noticeable to the trained eye was bullet wound at his temple, and if Costia had to bet, he’d died before he had even touched the water.

“We suspect that his last known contact may be involved in the disappearances.” Luna said in a clipped tone, her brown eyes flashing dangerously at Dayne as she took control of the briefing again. “Her name is Niylah Hunter.” An image of a beautiful, well-aged woman oozing sophistication came onto the screen. She looked like trouble, and Costia felt her skin crawl at the sight of her. Something about this woman didn’t seem right, but something else was also nagging at the back of her mind.

“But how do you know that Agent Marks’ disappearance is connected to the others?” All eyes were on her when she spoke, and Dayne glared at her with what others would have regarded to be disdain, but she knew was just an act to keep up appearances.

But before she could answer her, Luna beat her to it. “Because of his history with the DIA.” The General had her assistant go back to the slide with all the missing agents’ profiles. “Every single one of the missing operatives, never mind if they were DIA, FBI, ASIS, they all were connected.” Dayne scowled at her, clearly irate as Luna had gotten to the punchline before she had.

“But what connection?” Avery pressed. “My team has looked through every single missing agent’s file, there is nothing tying them together.”

“That’s because your clearance only gets you so far, Blake.” Dayne snapped. Luna shot Dayne a glare, no doubt disapproving of the way the Director talked to her operatives. But she didn’t seem to notice or care. Instead, she swung her broad head at Luna aggressively, making an exaggerated show of waiting for the General to answer the question. Luna shot daggers back at Dayne before she opened her mouth. “What my…distinguished colleague,” she seemed to almost gag saying the words, “means is that there is some information that was classified and removed from the database to protect the identity of previous operatives.”

Dayne nodded, though her eyes were condescending as she continued Luna’s briefing for her. “All thirteen of the operatives were part of an elite group of operatives in what was known as the TRIKRU program. The best in the world, recruited internationally and at the age of sixteen.” Costia swore she saw a look of reverence on Dayne’s typically reserved exterior. And it was not just her either. Other senior personnel also had similar expressions, and even the air seemed to hum with a great deal of respect even at the mention of the program.

 “And they were _DIA_ agents first, Lorin.” Luna sneered with great pride, and her agents jeered accordingly. “The program was shut down 30 years ago, after their commander resigned. The President ordered for the group to be officially disbanded, so the agents were dispersed into multiple different agencies across the globe.”

“What happened to the commander?” One agent asked from further down the table.

“Became a sleeper cell, then I reactivated her 26 years ago for one last mission before she officially retired.” Luna explained. “Now she’s off the grid, and no one’s seen her since.” She said it with heavy conviction, yet Costia swore she saw a flicker in the General’s eyes, an unreadable moment that she could not decipher because within seconds it disappeared.

“So someone’s hunting down agents from the program.” Costia surmised, and Dayne gave her a single approving nod.

“And our job now is to find out who would have reason to.” Dayne finished her train of thought.

“Bound to be a shitload of people with motive.” Avery muttered under her breath, and Luna seemed to overhear it because her eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Agent Blake is correct.” She announced with wicked glee. “We will have to focus on the high-ranking members of the program.” Luna snapped her fingers at the senior analysts seated at the table, who instantly straightened up from their seats, spines straight at her call. “Run analytics, go through every single mission they’ve ever done, profiles of the individual agents, anything that could give someone reason to hunt all of them down.” She fixed them with a hard glare as she said her next words, “only myself, Dayne, and a few select operatives will have access to the files. Are we clear?” The analysts nodded, and immediately leapt from their seats, scampering off to do her bidding.

Concurrently, Dayne lifted her chin, arms crossed over her broad chest. “Sterling, Dean, Maynard, stay behind. Everyone else clear out.”

Indignant, Costia marched over to Dayne. She had hardly even opened her mouth when the Director raised a calloused hand to appease her. “Woods-Griffin, I know what you’re thinking.” The older woman rubbed her chin distractedly. “You’re going to run point on Niylah Hunter. She’s holding a charity gala next Friday, and I want you to send a team to infiltrate it. Get close to her, get the intel, and get out.” Lorin’s eyes flickered to a point behind Costia’s shoulder. “And make sure to take Blake, and whoever is closest to you.” She lowered her voice, meeting Costia’s gaze. “For something like this, I want agents I can trust. And I only trust you.”

 

Costia swallowed thickly and nodded, feeling the weight of her Director’s faith rest heavy on her shoulders. “I won’t let you down.”

 

* * *

 

They had strategized until she felt like her brain would melt in her skull and drip out of her ears. When the stress got to be too much, Costia had dismissed her hastily assembled team, and had excused herself.

She sat by herself. The whiskey tasted smooth as she downed a second tumbler filled with the amber liquid, swirling the leftover contents absentmindedly with her hand. In the silence of her ultramodern, Spartan-sparse apartment, her only companion was her memories.

The look of utter trust in Lorin’s eyes was not shocking. It was the sliver of emotion that had run undercurrent of it. A secret only they knew. A level of affection and tenderness reserved just for her, and in that moment Costia returned it. But it was a scandal waiting to happen. Something that could not be pursued if they both wished to continue their careers. She wondered what Anya would say, and in that heartbeat Costia recalled the last time she had seen her former mentor before she had disappeared.

The older agent had given her a disapproving look as they sat together in Anya’s garage, cleaning their weapons on their day off. It was Mother’s Day, and Costia had refused to call her parents.

“Why won’t you call your parents?” Costia wouldn’t meet Anya’s probing gaze, cleaning her Smith & Wesson with great care instead. “I just don’t feel comfortable doing it.” She mumbled, and Anya threw the polishing cloth at her shoulder.

“What’s the real reason?” Costia rolled her eyes. Ever the interrogator, but then again she had grown used to it. Ever since the joint task force when Anya had trained all the new recruits. Where all the graduates had affectionately called Agent Rivers “Aunt Anya” both to spite her and also make her proud. Even Anya couldn’t deny that her acute brown eyes twinkled with an extra spark whenever her former students called her by that nickname.

Costia sighed, low and in her stomach. She finally set her weapon on the benchtop and met Anya’s gaze. “When I told my moms that I wanted to join the Bureau, they weren’t happy about it.” She admitted. The older woman made an empathetic noise at the back of her throat. “All they wanted was for me to just stay in the same town I grew up in and take over the family business.” She looked down at her hands, curled in her lap and wringing nervously. “I’ll never forget the look of disappointment in my mom’s face when I packed up my things and just left.” She paused, her voice hitched. “And now, I just don’t want to cause them more pain by constantly...reminding them of how my teenage rebellion tore our family apart.”

There was a brief silence, then Anya punched Costia on the bicep. “You idiot.” Despite her harsh tone, there was a softness emanating off her. “Your parents are going to love you no matter what. Even if you ran off to kick-start a career that gives you a license to kill.” Costia laughed despite herself, her eyes swimming with nostalgia. “Your parents probably miss you, as much as you miss them. And if we’re being perfectly honest about this,” Anya reached over and brushed a few stray locks of hair from Costia’s face. “I’d say that they feel like they let you down, for not being able to accept that you had your own path to forge.”

“Ugh. When did you start understanding human emotion?” Costia quipped, and Anya chuckled as she took a healthy swing from her beer.

“I only tap into it when it counts.” She smirked, shooting a smug grin at the younger agent. Costia stared at her, and then finally sighed wearily.

“You know, if you ever meet my mom, I’m pretty sure you’d get along swimmingly.” She said, a note of hope in her voice as she looked down at her hands.

“Oh yeah?” Anya grinned, “which mom?”

“Lexa, the ‘commander’ mom.” Even saying her name made previously buried emotions sliver to the surface, and Costia clenched her jaw slightly. Costia released a shaky laugh, and when she looked up she saw a flash of wistfulness and yearning, but then Anya blinked and schooled her face into an unreadable expression. She must have just imagined it, Costia decided. It was the alcohol, the stress from their last mission, the topic of conversation.

But months later, reflecting on that odd look that Anya had so quickly masked, Costia could only wonder what could have made her react like that.  

Then again, there was a lot Costia did not know.

* * *

 

“You want to do what?” Lexa’s voice was low, but even then Costia could hear an already simmering anger coming to the surface. Costia was standing in front of her parents, feet planted in a strong pose as she confronted them with her career goals.

Next to Lexa, Clarke let out a noise at the back of her throat. “Lexa.” She said in a warning tone, and so the older woman snorted heavily through her nose and grinded her teeth with the force of her jaw clenching to keep choice words from leaving her mouth.

Costia took a deep breath, then repeated what she had just said. “I want  to join the FBI.”

Lexa made a loud huff, and her chest inflated with air. Beside her, Clarke collapsed onto a vacant chair and closed her eyes, a finger pinching the bridge of her nose. Without her wife to stop her, Lexa stalked stiff-legged up to her daughter, green eyes ablaze with barely contained rage. “Why the hell would you want to do that?” She snapped. “Are you insane?” It took all of Costia’s willpower not to flinch as all of her mother’s fury came crashing down on her. “You want to willingly throw your life away for a defunct country? For people who won’t even know your name, let alone your sacrifice?” Lexa snarled. “I didn’t raise my daughter like a pig for slaughter!”

“I don’t care what you raised me for!” Costia retorted, indignation uncoiling from the pit in her stomach and rearing up like a wild horse. “And I don’t care if people don’t know that I sacrificed certain comforts to keep them safe.” She added hotly, and Lexa glared at her with pure anger.

“You don’t know what you want! You don’t know anything!” Lexa sneered. “You’re eighteen years old, you think everything will turn out okay in the end. You think at the end of the day the bad guys lose and the good guys win.” She spoke down to her mercilessly. “But that’s a farce, Costia. This isn’t a movie, this is real life. This is your life, and I won’t let you-”

“I don’t need you to let me!” Costia countered angrily, incensed tears welling at her eyes. “I’m eighteen, I can choose what I want to do with my life, and this is it!”

“Then you are truly lost!” Lexa shouted bitterly, and that was when Clarke finally intervened.

“Enough!” Clarke leapt to her feet, and immediately the two snarling wolves prowling in her kitchen were stunned into silence. In all of her lifetime, there were two things that Costia knew. That Lexa would fight tooth and nail to always defend her, and that Clarke never raised her voice.

Lexa took a step back from where she and her daughter had confronted each other nose-to-nose, shuffling cautiously towards her stormy wife. “Clarke,” she started, but she would not have the opportunity to finish. Clarke raised one hand, and Lexa’s mouth snapped shut so fast it would have been hilarious. Would have been.

“Lexa,” She swung her head aggressively at her wife before she continued, you’ve said what you wanted to say, now it’s time for me.” Clarke’s voice was a whisper, her shoulders shaking as she seethed. She turned to look her daughter dead in the eye. “Costia, why do you want to join the FBI?”

Costia immediately straightened, and she promptly answered. “Because it’s a chance for me to make something of myself.” The corner of Lexa’s mouth twitched, and Clarke quickly shot her a glare, and immediately the other woman pursed her lips, and the blonde nodded at her daughter to continue. “Because I haven’t tried anything beyond this world here.” She said. “All my life, you’ve sheltered me, kept me safe. You protected me from anything or anyone that tried to hurt me. And I will always love you both for that.” Costia glanced at Lexa, whose green eyes swam with anger and a furious pride despite herself. “But it’s time for me to experience the rest of the world for myself.” Costia concluded, her jaw set, her shoulders squared.

For the first time since this conversation had started, Lexa made no move to counter her. Instead, she appeared mournful, and when she looked to Clarke, they communicated silently with an ease only achievable through years of a successful, symbiotic relationship. Finally, Clarke walked up to Costia and wrapped her arms around her. The embrace was warm, was loving, and already echoed a sense of loss and heartbreak. As Costia’s arms began to return the hug, she felt a familiar warmth at her side, and she buried her face into the warm brown curls of her other mother’s hair.

When they finally released her, Lexa looked the closest to tears that Costia had ever seen, and Clarke just bit her lip tightly. She heaved a sigh, then giving her a gentle, understanding smile, Clarke looked to wife, the strong one, and at long last Lexa uttered her last command to her greatest creation. “Go.”

And when she walked out the door with her all of her life packed into a bag, Costia didn’t look back, for she knew the tale. She knew what would happen if she looked back, for if she fell to her greatest temptation, she would never have the strength to leave again.


	5. Chapter 5

The ballroom was a flamboyant display. Women were in evening gowns, and men in tuxedos. There was a classical band playing in the center of the room, and everywhere Costia was surrounded by people wearing masks. It was straight out of a Bond movie, she mused. It was the Masquerade Ball, held by the charitable and ever-influential Niylah Mason, the world’s richest businesswoman. Also one of the most notorious when it came to keeping secrets.

“I’ve got eyes on Mason.” Costia murmured into her comm, and several resounding clicks from her fellow operatives followed. Costia herself had dressed for the occasion, wearing a long red dress and a gold and black mask covering the top half of her face. She held a slender glass of champagne in one hand as she strode casually through the crowd.

On the other side of the room, Avery made her rounds as she played the role of waitress. “Tell me again why I had to be the one wearing the stupid white shirt and tie?” She complained good-naturedly, and Costia smirked.

“Because when I showed you the dress, you said ‘hell no’ and walked away.” Costia responded dryly as she walked elegantly across the ballroom, discreetly following Niylah’s every move.

The woman was likely in her early fifties, yet she glowed with a youthful beauty, dirty blonde hair voluminous and shimmering. She threw her head back in laughter as she engaged in conversation with a tall, handsome man. The exposure of her long, slender neck made Costia’s eyes widen. In other circumstances, she would even consider the woman to be a great beauty, with her charm and charisma. She worked the room effortlessly, straight white teeth flashing as she laughed and pandered to all the fortune 500 CEOs and CFOs at the party.

“I don’t want to say it because you’re really just seducing her for the mission, but she’s kind of your type.” Costia nearly choked on her champagne at Avery’s comment.

“Shut up.” Costia hissed discreetly, and she heard Avery’s laughter in response. She hid the blush quickly forming on her cheeks with a hand that made a show of wiping her mouth. “She’s basically my moms’ age.” Costia said as she attempted to regain her cool.

“And she’s already taken.” Roan, their team member, decided to chime in. “Didn’t you see the way Dayne was looking at her?” Costia could see his shit-eating grin from across the room.

“You’re right.” Avery agreed. “Dayne definitely would bang her.”

“Guys, shut it.” Costia practically growled. “Dayne is our boss, I’m not going to sleep with her.”

“Yeah but at least she’s age-appropriate.” Roan asserted, and Avery chortled.

“Kids!” The agents instantly recognized the fourth voice coming onto the channel. It was the DIA representative, Raven Reyes. “Stop bugging Costia about her love life and focus on the mission!” She reprimanded them sharply, and there was a quiet stream of apologies from Avery and Roan. Costia shot the older operative a grateful look, and the woman blinked in understanding before she swirled away and blended into the crowd.

She turned around, and Costia’s eyes searched once more for the Niylah. She was still making her way through a sea of fanatics. It was probably the most pretentious party she had ever been to, and the woman fit in well. From the dossier, Costia knew that Niylah had started out with modest beginnings. It was only when she had risen from the bottom of the criminal world, making connections and alliances with the wealthy that she had taken center stage. Here, she was the queen, and she looked every bit like her title.

Costia watched her throughout the night. Slowly, the crowd dwindled as the night winded down, and when there was an opening, Costia quietly moved in on Niylah, gliding over as elegantly as she could in her damn heels. The older woman had just finished a conversation with an attractive couple, her bodyguards giving her a wide berth to socialize. Deciding to take advantage of that fact, Costia sidled up behind Niylah, putting on as much charm as she could muster.

“That’s a beautiful dress.” Costia whispered hotly in Niylah’s ear. She felt the heat coming off the woman’s body, and the blonde didn’t turn around, content to play this game.

“Can’t come up with something a little more original?” Niylah asked, face turning slightly, and Costia moved closer until their bodies were almost touching.

“That’s kind of impossible, especially when words cannot describe the charming beauty that you are.” She said, her lips brushing the shell of her ear. She felt the other woman shudder slightly, goosebumps raising along her neck.

“Mmm.” Niylah leaned back slightly, back brushing Costia’s shoulder. “Did you take all night to come up with that one?” Costia smiled sheepishly, and Niylah decided to face her in that moment. “Did you think I would not notice the way that you’ve watched me?” She said, her nose almost brushing the younger woman’s. “Did you not see the way I lingered, waiting for you to come to me?”

Emboldened, Costia’s hands went around Niylah’s waist, pulling her flush against her body. The blonde gasped at the motion, and Costia’s face was inches from hers. “I’m not your servant.” She said assertively. “I’m also not a dog, to come at your will.”  Niylah’s breath puffed against her cheek, and she leaned closer, until their chests were pressed tight against each other.

“Prove it.” Niylah commanded, and Costia tilted her head closer. But she did not give to the woman what she yearned the most. “Let’s take this somewhere more private.” She suggested instead, one hand going lower to ghost across Niylah’s firm ass. She heard Niylah’s hot gasp of excitement, and she nodded. Wordlessly, Niylah took her by the hand and led her out of the ballroom.

She led her up the stairs of her mansion and through a door to her bedroom, and when Niylah closed the door and locked it behind her, Costia looked at the woman who gazed up at her with naked intent.

“Come here.” She requested hotly, and Costia shifted forward until she had the woman pressed firmly against the door. Niylah’s hands started to roam, and immediately Costia pinned them above her head. “I told you, I’m not your servant.” She reiterated.

“Then take me, and be done with it.” Niylah retorted, body straining up to feel some sort of release. Costia laughed, and allowed the other woman to brush up against her briefly.

“Tell me something first.” Costia whispered, and Niylah brushed her nose against her.

“Anything.” Costia took the time to gently caress Niylah’s face with her hand before she spoke.

“Why did Gustus Marks meet with you four months ago?” At those words, Niylah’s expression hardened, eyes cold.

“So this is not a personal meeting.” She said, voice calculating. Yet she made no move to break free from Costia’s firm grip. Instead, she leaned forward in a slightly menacing manner, and Costia was reminded exactly why Niylah had become the queen of the underground. “Did you truly expect it to be?” Costia challenged, “You staged a coup when you were 23 and ran the entire criminal underground within weeks. You can’t tell me, that with brains like that, you didn’t discover who I truly was once I walked through that door.” The agent rolled her hips, pressing back in a test of wills. Niylah smirked in response, and she hid the look of delighted surprise that glowed in her eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” She said, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips. “But you’ve read up on me, better than most operatives that come around these days.” She brushed her forehead up against Costia’s, “You’re one of Luna’s people.”

“No.” Costia replied. “I’m one of Dayne’s.” Niylah hummed with excitement. Feeling that she was less of a flight-risk, Costia relinquished her hold on Niylah’s arms. Almost immediately, the other woman’s hands went around Costia’s waist, squeezing gently at the curve of muscle she found.

“Ah.” Niylah’s eyes turned soft, affectionate. “My dear Lorin. I should have known. She always was meticulous in her planning.”

“Does that change things?” Costia asked boldly, and Niylah shook her head coyly.

“No.” The older woman blinked up at the agent. “Gustus came to me for intel. He was looking for answers.”

“What answers?”

“His friend, Ryder. He told me that he had disappeared a few weeks ago.”

“And he came to you to take advantage of your connections.” Costia concluded, and Niylah agreed easily.

“And I’ll tell you exactly what I told him.” Niylah said, her voice hushed. “The path that you want to take, it will only lead to death.”

“I’m not afraid.” Costia said, voice unwavering, and the older woman looked at her, long and hard. Finally, she relented. “To get to the truth, you must know the past.” A hand went up to brush her fingers against Costia’s soft cheek. “The Ice Queen has returned.” The name only instigated more questions, and Costia opened her mouth to do just that when there was a muted thump beyond the door.

There was a commotion outside, and suddenly there was a buzz in Costia’s earpiece. “Cos, we have some new players. They’re coming up the stairs, and they’re definitely not Niylah’s guys.” Costia bit her lip. She met Niylah’s gaze.

“How long?” She asked.

“Five minutes.” Niylah responded tersely. “If you let them catch you, it will be your body that washes up from the Hudson.” Costia nodded, and slowly she stepped away from the other woman.

“Thank you.” Niylah frowned at her, an inquisitive expression evident on her features.

“You remind me of someone, from the past.” She said, even as Costia pulled out her handgun. “Another operative, from ASIS.”

Costia raised one eyebrow, curious. But before she could ask, the door burst open. She sprung into action, tackling the man who had so rudely broke down the door. She felt an elbow come down hard on her ribcage, and she fired a quick shot to his stomach. Costia jumped to her feet, giving Niylah one more nod in acknowledgement before she sprinted from the room. Outside, she saw a flurry of bodies and bullets.

Her own people were down there, Niylah’s men seemingly siding with them. The new guys wore dark blue suits, dressed uniformly to kill. They were easily distinguishable in a sea of black outfits, and as she leapt down the stairs she moved to fire at the few coming up at her. Costia’s aim was true, and the men fell to the ground as she made her way down the winding stair to Avery’s aid.

The other agent was pinned against the ground, but before the insurgent could slit her throat with his knife, Costia lobbed a shot right at his occipital lobe. The dead weight collapsed completely, and Costia rushed over to pull Avery out from under him. “Took you long enough!” Avery panted her way of thanks as she stood. Costia did not reply, choosing instead to launch herself into the fray with the other agent close behind. The blue coats were like ants. Well-trained ants who forced them to retreat into the ballroom. It was a dead-end, and as Costia took one down, four more appeared to take his place. She and Avery hid behind one of the marble columns, firing at whoever came close. Vaguely, she noticed that most of Niylah’s men were dead. The few that remained seemed to have retreated up the stairs, presumably to protect their mistress.

From the other side of the ballroom, Roan engaged in close-quarters combat. He was facing off against a six-foot giant, obviously struggling.  Not far from him, Raven grappled with a female blue coat, her legs wrapped around the other woman’s neck in a chokehold. Costia moved out from the marble column with Avery close behind, but before she could rush over to assist them, she heard a shout of pain.

Avery had fallen to the ground, the side of her chest pouring blood. A blue coat stood right behind her, her pistol trained on the injured agent’s head while her companions surrounded them. “Drop the gun, or she dies.” The woman hissed. She was out of options.

Slowly, Costia placed her weapon on the marble floor, and one blue coat moved over to kick it out of reach. As she stood to her full height, she gave the blue coat a bored stare. “What do you want?” She asked lazily, and the woman walked right up to her until they were nose to nose. Without a word, the woman sunk her knuckles into the flesh of Costia’s stomach. As she doubled over in pain, the woman kicked her face, and as she collapsed to her knees, she caught sight of Avery’s defeated look.

The blue coat smiled wickedly as she bent down and grabbed her by the chin to face her. “This one is younger than the others we’ve caught.” She jeered, and the blue coats laughed. Costia spat a glob of blood at the woman’s feet, and she retaliated with a kick in the ribs.

“This one’s feisty, Ontari.” One of the blue coats sneered. The woman – Ontari – smirked, and she wiped Costia’s blood off her boot by delivering another swift kick at the agent.

“The Ice Queen will love torturing this one.” Ontari agreed. She pivoted on her heel to smile at her other captives. Roan had been knocked unconscious, while Raven was lying on the ground, a blue coat’s boot stepping on her bad leg. Ontari’s black eyes gleamed with recognition, and she strode over to Raven with a victorious spring in her step. “Well, if it isn’t Raven Reyes.” The woman in question glared up at her with pure hatred. They knew each other well. “Just when I thought I would never finish killing you.” She smirked. “How’s your leg doing these days?”

“Fuck you.” Raven snarled, and the blue coats only laughed.

“Rivers was just as combative.” Ontari sneered. “She’s learned to keep quiet now though.” Costia’s ears perked up at Anya’s name. She had used present tense. Anya must still be alive. This realization flashed in Raven’s eyes as well, a glint of hope appearing before she quickly squashed it.

“You’ll never be able to get anything out of me.” Raven hissed. “Just like you won’t get anything from Anya either.” Ontari’s expression was gleeful at those words.

“Well of course.” She smirked. “That makes the beatings more fun.” Her voice was downright sadistic. “And I’ll be rewarded greatly for this.” She stroked an index finger along Raven’s jaw, and the latter jerked away from her touch as far as she could. “The whole pair, Rivers and Reyes. And you.” She returned her attention to Costia. “The Queen will be very pleased to have you.” Costia glared defiantly in turn, obstinate even in capture.

“When your back is turned, I’ll kill you first.” Costia threatened in return. Ontari hardly looked afraid.

“I look forward to the challenge.” She sneered arrogantly, then she turned her back on them as she made her way out the door. “Take her and Reyes, kill the other two.” She ordered her men.

Costia swallowed, watching as the blue coat standing over Avery cocked his pistol at her head.

It happened in slow motion. She saw the bullet. Saw it go through the window behind the man. Watched it enter one side of his temple and out the other. The blue coats were in an uproar the instant the man fell to the ground, his brains splattering all over the ground. Before Costia could even react, another blue coat’s brains painted the walls.

For the first time since she had laid eyes on Ontari, Costia saw fear plastered over her face. The woman made a beeline for the exit. “Take Reyes, leave the rest!” She shouted before she raced out the door. The blue coat yanked Reyes from the ground and rushed after her, and in the confusion of blue coats escaping from the unseen threat with a panicked gleam in their eyes, Costia saw someone dressed in black rappel through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The glass shattered onto the perfectly manicured floors, and the newcomer’s boots touched strong and secure on the ground with an eerie familiarity. Whoever it was, the individual was quick to engage in the chaos. Before she could acknowledge them, the masked figure swivelled her gun at her. Costia barely had time to react at all when the bullet flew past her shoulder and took out the blue coat that had been standing behind her.

“Move!” The figure shouted, and Costia immediately launched down in a tuck and roll away from the newcomer’s sights. The figure dropped down on one knee, gun in front of her as she aimed. With one shot, the blue coat that had been taking off with Reyes fell to the ground, his blood spraying all over the agent. Ontari wore an expression of pure horror when her eyes appraised the figure in black in recognition. Without a second glance, Ontari ran as fast as her legs could take her, what remained of her retinue scampering after her. Even as they ran, bullets flew. Both from the figure in black, and from an unknown source from the window that had been broken into. Costia rolled quickly, reaching for an abandoned pistol. Wordlessly, she assisted in taking out as many stragglers as she could, until finally it ended and the ballroom was empty once more.

Costia took a deep breath, astonished by the sudden turn of events. She glanced at their savior, but before she could get out a word in edgewise, the figure strode over to where Raven had been unceremoniously dropped. The newcomer holstered the pistol and offered her a hand. When Raven looked up at the shadow over her, there was a glint of recognition in her eyes. With a subtle smile, Reyes took the assist without complaint. She carefully tested her leg, putting some weight on it until gradually she stood without the figure’s helping hand at her side. The black figure patted her on the shoulder, and relinquished her hold on her.

Costia was frozen, and the figure in black appraised her somberly before moving past her to check on Roan’s unconscious form. That jolted Costia into action, and she sought out Avery, her heart pumping frantically. As it was, the agent had dragged herself to the side of the room, leaning heavily against the wall as she staunched as much of the bleeding as she could from the bullet wound on her chest. “Avery.” Costia rushed up to her side, falling to her knees to help. Avery let her head fall back against the wall in exhaustion, the blood loss finally getting to her. Costia worried her lip as her hands moved to press hard against the wound. “Am I going to make it?” Avery asked, a weak smile forming on her bloody lips. Costia made a disapproving noise, and she applied extra pressure on the wound to retaliate. “Don’t be an ass.” She hushed her gently, and her eyes roamed for something, anything, that could become a makeshift bandage.

There was a tap on her right shoulder, and she saw a gloved hand offer her some white bandages. She applied them to Avery’s chest, quickly forming a tourniquet. Avery released a sigh when she used some of it to bind her now useless arm to her chest. Costia stood and turned to officially thank their rescuer, but when she did, she found herself lost in a sea of brilliant blue eyes. It was  the greatest shock of her life, and after a few seconds, she uttered one word: “Mom?”


	6. Chapter 6

Clarke stood before her daughter, eyes longing as she took in the young woman in front of her standing with mouth agape. She had grown, her features sharper and more defined. Her hair was brown and wavy, eyes an opaque green set within a beautiful face with a sharp nose and full lips that were still bleeding from the kick that Ontari had so generously gifted her. It was in that moment that Clarke’s heart overflowed with pride and love.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” Costia finally said, and Clarke smiled warmly at her. She adjusted the tactical vest on her shoulders, loosening the straps as she looked into her daughter’s eyes.

“I came to rescue you.” She said simply, lips curving into a smile. “We both did.” Clarke yearned to reach forward, to touch her daughter’s face. To give her some sort of affection. But then Costia crossed her arms, her eyes growing dark with realization.

“So this is why you didn’t want me doing this.” Costia said, her voice quietly seething. Clarke inhaled sharply at the glare her daughter gave her. “You didn’t want this life for me, because you already had it.”

“Costia, it’s more than just that.” Clarke began her explanation. “We didn’t want the potential of you having to pay for the consequences of our actions, for missions gone wrong or adversaries trying to get revenge for something we’d done.” There was a particular edge to how Clarke finished her sentence, and Costia furrowed both eyebrows in fury.

“So all this, the agents disappearing, Gustus dying, this is your fault?” Costia snapped, and Clarke visibly flinched. Her eyes were cast downward for a heartbeat, before they hardened when they rose to meet Costia’s icy green ones.

“We did what we had to do to survive.” Clarke said, her voice hard with conviction. “You just wouldn’t understand.” At that, Costia’s resolve snapped and she marched right up to her mother, stepping right into her personal space.

“’I wouldn’t understand’?” She repeated angrily. “Do you not see where we are?” Clarke’s jaw clenched, eyebrows knitted in distress. But Costia was relentless, untamable. “I am more than aware, mother, of doing what it takes to survive.”

At that moment, there was an uproar at the entryway of the ballroom before Lexa burst through, gaze frantic.

Lexa was wearing a similar outfit as Clarke, black pants, tactical gear. Her sniper rifle was slung up at her back, her utility belt armed with her Walther on one hip and a knife on the other. At her side was Niylah, who looked shaken up but walked steadily enough. Behind them, DIA agents poured into the room to remove the left over bodies and attend to the injured, Lexa making a beeline to check on Raven. The other brunette gave her a warm smile and opened her arms, Lexa meeting her halfway in a quick hug. Her eyes searched the expanse of the room until they finally landed on her wife and daughter.

Lexa gave Raven one last pat on the back before she strode over to her family. As Clarke saw her practically jogging over, she could read her wife’s body language like a book. Lexa wanted to tackle Costia in a hug, but Clarke circumvented her quickly by stepping in front of her path. She held a hand up against Lexa’s chest. Lexa looked at her in confusion, and examined her from head to toe with a quick glance. “Are you okay?” She asked, voice peppered with worry. When Clarke shook her head, Lexa moved towards her daughter with clear intent, but Costia backed away from her eagerness.

“Cos, are you okay?” Lexa asked beseechingly, green eyes filled with worry. At that question, Costia released a humorless laugh, her body screaming that she wasn’t okay at all.

“Do I look okay?” She asked coldly. Lexa’s face flashed with surprise, and she looked to Clarke, trying to understand what she had just walked in on. Behind them, Avery suddenly let out a quiet moan of pain, and all three women momentarily directed attention to the injured agent.

Lexa instantly snapped her fingers, turning her head to the DIA agents she had brought with her. “This agent needed medical attention yesterday, get to it!” She snapped, and two agents scurried over immediately, apologies instantly leaving their lips as they surrounded Avery to check her over.

Lexa returned her attention to her daughter and wife, who were staring each other down - one with fury and confusion, the other with heartbreak and yearning.

Clarke had taken that momentary distraction to look at her daughter again, and she felt like someone had taken her breath away. She was alive, she was safe.

Costia swung her head from one mother to the other, her eyes tempered with betrayal and bewilderment. She was barely grasping the situation here, and a million questions milled within her. Clarke wanted to move forward, wanted to be rid of the distance between herself and her daughter, to embrace her for the first time in years. But she saw the guarded expression, the way Costia held her body. She wouldn’t allow it. Not when her mother had just talked to her like she was a child, not an FBI agent with six years of experience in the field.

“Costia, please. We love you, and we’ll explain, just come here.” Clarke spoke softly like she was coaxing a puppy to come to her, and Costia bristled openly.

Costia gave her and Lexa a cold stare, and without a word she turned on her heel and walked out of the ballroom. For the second time in her life, Clarke watched her daughter walk away from them, and her heart shattered into pieces. Lexa was silent for a few heartbeats, then she wordlessly placed a hand on Clarke shoulder comfortingly. “She’ll come around.” She said, her voice sounding deceptively more confident than she actually felt. “She just has to get the initial shock out of her system, then once we explain the whole thing to her, everything will be okay.” Clarke sighed loudly, willing herself to believe it too, before she turned around to face her wife.

“I’m not so sure she will this time.” She confessed, and Lexa’s mask of confidence fractured slightly at her words. She pursed her lips, and Clarke closed her eyes in distress as she leaned into Lexa’s strong frame for support. Lexa took a deep breath, and then she sighed, expression sorrowful. “It’ll be okay.”

Clarke nodded against Lexa’s shoulder, then she grasped her wife’s hand tightly. Hand-in-hand, they walked out of the ballroom, leaving behind the carnage and destruction that they had wreaked.

They had just made it out to the main hall, and Niylah – who had been sitting at the stairs, stood and walked up to them. She gave them both a familiar smile. “It’s good to see you both again.”

“It’s good to see you too.” Clarke said, the corners of her lips turning upwards. Lexa gave Niylah a slight nod, and Clarke squeezed her hand warningly, pulling out a polite sentence from her wife. “A pleasure.” Lexa finally managed, and Niylah ducked her head to hide her amusement.

“So are you both officially working again?” She asked hopefully, likely already imagining all the different contracts the two of them could complete for her. The shaking of Clarke’s head immediately squashed those fantasies before they could become anything more than that.

“No, we just came back as a personal favor to Luna.” Clarke said evasively, and Niylah seemed content with her answer.

The two had almost made it to the door when they heard her speak again. “That agent, she’s like you. Both of you.” Lexa stopped and turned to Clarke, eyes widened. Clarke bit her lip, and slowly, she blinked at her wife once before facing Niylah again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She lied, and Niylah met her icy stare before sighing and walking up to the agents.

“I won’t tell anyone.” She promised. Lexa looked like she wanted to kill her on the spot, but Clarke dug her nails into her hand, urging her to keep quiet.

“Okay.” Clarke said. “But if anyone else in your world comes upon this information, you are the first person we’ll look for.” Niylah gave her a quick nod, and with that Clarke tugged Lexa away from her and out the door.

Lexa allowed herself to be pulled away, and she remained silent until they made it out to the courtyard, where the vehicle Luna had loaned them awaited. Once outside, Clarke released her hand and the two walked silently.  Some DIA agents were still in the mansion, the forensics team sweeping the area. The courtyard itself was swarming with other personnel, the tactical team slowly piling into the company vehicle. Clarke searched the area for Costia, and she caught sight of her getting into the back of an ambulance, accompanying Avery to the hospital.

“Avery sure does remind me of Octavia when she was younger.” Lexa broke the silence between them, and Clarke laughed lightly.

“She does seem like the smart aleck of the group.” Clarke conceded. Lexa crossed her arms as they stood in the middle of the chaos surrounding them.

“Are you sure you can trust Niylah?” Lexa finally asked, and Clarke raised an eyebrow at her.

“Of course.” The other woman said easily, and when Lexa still didn’t appear convinced, she frowned. “Lexa, I know her. She’s loyal to her friends.” Lexa huffed, and then Clarke rolled her eyes humorously. “You’re just biased because I slept with her before.”

“Just had to bring _that_ up again.” Lexa groaned, and Clarke chuckled before she turned on her heel and wrapped Lexa up in a full-body embrace. She rested her chin on her shoulder, lips ghosting at her ear.

“She’s not a threat.” She affirmed. “I love you, and I love our family.” Lexa’s arms went around her waist, squeezing tight in understanding, and her next words were a given. “I would never do anything to endanger us.” She nuzzled up against Lexa’s neck. “Trust me.” Clarke whispered, and she felt Lexa smile more than she saw it.

“I always do.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Well, I never thought in a million years that this would happen. But here we are.” Luna said, mirth filling her voice as she appraised the individuals standing around the table before her. Directly across from where she was seated, Lexa and Clarke stood side-by-side, appearing just as united as they had the last time the General had seen them. At Luna’s side, Lorin Dayne stood with her arms using the table as support as she leaned forward with her palms flat on the table.

Raven was the only other person seated, her crutches leaning against the table. Standing on either side of her was Octavia and Lincoln. Octavia looked wild with stress, toe tapping against the linoleum floor. On the other hand, Lincoln appeared outwardly calm, but Lexa noted the way that he bit the inside of his cheek. Both of them no doubt anxiously awaiting an update on Avery’s condition.

Roan stood across from Raven and the Blakes, his thick arms crossed over his chest as he wore a bored expression as he leaned against the wall. And next to him, Costia fixed her eyes determinedly at Luna, refusing to acknowledge her parents’ presence.

Lorin’s gaze flickered to Costia, the question of _are you okay_ projected in her eyes. Costia imperceptibly twitched one eyebrow, telling the Director to drop it. The silent communication did not go unnoticed by Lexa, who clenched her jaw.

"I mean seriously," Luna mimed an explosion with her hands. "It's like a tv show crossover of all-stars." She said, her face wide with a childish smile. Lexa gave her a look, but she couldn't really be mad at the General. She was just trying to alleviate the tension in the room.

“So,” Luna smiled at Lexa and Clarke, “I see no reason why you two shouldn’t take point in this.” The room was silent, and all Lorin did was close her eyes and nod approvingly. There was a look of betrayal that flashed across Costia’s face, but it was gone in the next second. Not soon enough for the other agents to notice. Lorin appeared surprised by Costia’s reaction too.

“Do you not approve of the Heda and the Wanheda – the greatest agents of our time – leading the operation?” Lorin addressed Lexa and Clarke by their codenames as she questioned Costia directly. All eyes turned to the youngest operative in the room, and she shot daggers at her Director before she answered.

“I’m just wondering why they are the most equipped to command the operation.” She replied curtly. Lexa tried to meet her daughter’s gaze, but her eyes remained obstinately fixed on Lorin instead.

Lexa sighed, and when Clarke gave her silent permission, she answered her daughter’s vote of non-confidence with the proof she needed. “I spoke to Niylah before came to check on Costia’s team.” She said. “She told me that the Ice Queen has returned.” That drew horrified expressions from the senior agents - Octavia swore under her breath, and Lincoln’s eyes widened. Luna bit her lip, fists clenched. At Costia’s side, Roan’s face turned pale.

“Wait, who?” Raven asked quizzically, Costia similarly in the dark. Lexa looked to Luna for assistance, and she acquiesced.

“Nia Frost, also known as the Ice Queen, was the queen of the criminal world before Niylah took over.” Luna explained. “She owned Ice Nation Corporation, one of the biggest businesses at Wall Street. It appeared legitimate, but everyone in the law enforcement world knew it was just a front. It was the largest criminal organization in the world.”

 Lexa shifted uncomfortably, and Clarke drifted one hand to brush against hers in comfort.

“Nia wanted power and control over everything and everyone, and the TRIKRU operatives were instrumental in stopping plot after plot.” Lorin cut in, and Luna allowed it with an incline of her chin.

“Our side mission during Dragon Strike was our only failure.” The General reclaimed the topic. “As it turns out, one of our own, Marcus Kane, had been leaking secrets to a man named Thelonious Jaha. Jaha was one of Nia’s cronies, and when Nia found out that Lexa’s team was there, she sought to have her assassinated. But in the chaos, someone else was caught in the crossfire.” Luna glanced uneasily at Lexa.  Lexa sighed, and she looked directly at Costia.

“She killed my girlfriend.” She said, her voice only slightly quavered, and Clarke grasped her hand tightly in support.  Costia looked up, finally meeting her mother’s gaze. She blinked and looked away a heartbeat later, and Lexa felt her heart sink. But she hardened herself, and she puffed up her chest in a show of confidence. “And now, she’s held my best friend captive, and has murdered numerous more of my friends.” Her words filled the air with a particular weight, and silence followed.

“But why?” Lorin appeared puzzled. “Why target you?” Lexa had known that this question would come, and she squeezed Clarke’s hand to steady herself first.

“Because I killed her daughter.” Lexa confessed.

 

* * *

 

 

_When the last body fell, when she completely obliterated the last line of defense that stood between her and Nia, Lexa walked stiff-legged to her prize. After all of her hard work, the last three days spent killing all the blue coats and assassins Nia could throw at her, she had finally reached her destination. It had always been her goal, ever since Costia had taken a bullet meant for her. She moved with a slight hitch to her gait. Her hip bothered her, no doubt from the knife wound one of the more skilled assassins had managed to land on her._

_She walked onto the balcony of Nia’s penthouse, where the woman stood. Her head still tilted arrogantly as Lexa limped up to her, her pistol trained on the Ice Queen. When she stood a few feet away from her, Nia spoke. “So it has finally come to this.” She said. Lexa didn’t react at all, expression unreadable as she stared at the woman she hated with a fiery passion. “Well? What are you waiting for?” Nia taunted her. “Finish it.”_

_Lexa’s hand tightened around her 9mm, but she did not fire. Nia scoffed, and goaded her on. “What weakness, no wonder Costia died for your sins.” Lexa’s eyes burned with anger immediately._

_“Don’t’ you dare say her name!” She snapped, and Nia laughed._

_“What are you going to do, shoot me?” Nia said. “Go ahead, get this over with while we’re still young.” Nia spread both arms wide, making herself an easy and willing target._

_Lexa bit the inside of her cheek, and she stared down the sight of her weapon. Her finger hovered over the trigger. But in the last moment, she lowered the gun. “No.” She said. “Death is too easy.” She swallowed hard. “I’m taking you in.” Lexa glared at her. “Your punishment is to live without the status, without the luxury that you’ve given to yourself.” Nia’s body started to shake with rage, and Lexa continued on. “Your punishment is to look upon an empire that no longer is yours while you rot in a cell, your name forgotten like a leaf blowing in the wind.” Lexa’s free hand went up to her comms, and when she heard the clicking of the active connection, she said: “This is Woods, I have Nia in custody. Prep the team for pick up at the top floor.” She dropped her hand behind her belt, pulling out zip ties._

_She strode over to Nia, and with the other woman glaring at her with fury, she yanked both of her arms out between them and bound her hands tight. The self-righteous yelp of pain at her rough action was satisfaction enough, and Lexa pushed her forward. “Get moving.” She ordered. Lexa limped slowly behind the defeated woman, slight satisfaction painting her pained gaze as she shoved her every five steps. They had walked back into the penthouse when suddenly there was movement at the corner of the hallway._

_“Let my mother go.” It was a teenage girl, no more than sixteen at most. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was still wearing her private school’s uniform. In her shaking hands, she held her mother’s Desert Eagle, trained on Lexa with stunning accuracy._

_Lexa was stunned. She was not aware that Nia had a_ daughter _. She slowly raised one hand in the air. “I can’t do that.” She said. “Please, just put the weapon down.” Lexa implored the girl, but she shook her head, gritting her teeth at what she saw as an intruder threatening the life of her mother._

_“Release my mother, now.” She snapped in return, and Lexa beseeched her once more._

_“I can’t.” She repeated. “Please, don’t get your hands bloodied.” Lexa looked deep into the girl’s scared eyes. “I can see it on your face, you’ve never fired that thing before.” She paused slightly. “Don’t make today that day.”_

_Nia did not dare move, but she seemed just as apprehensive about her daughter pointing that weapon anywhere near her. She opened her mouth, but then decided to keep silent. Let the trained assassin talk her down._

_Lexa saw the intent in the girl’s eyes the second she made up her mind, and she reacted before she could think it through. The girl’s finger twitched toward the trigger, and in a flash Lexa fired._

_The girl fell to the ground, her blood pouring out of the gaping wound in her chest. “Narcissa!” Nia released a scream of horror, and she fell to her knees at her daughter’s side. Lexa stood, frozen. Her ears were ringing with the sound of the shot, and she watched with shock as the teenager bled out on the expensive hardwood floor._

_The elevator dinged, and DIA agents burst into the room. Lexa didn’t move a muscle as they scanned the penthouse and swarmed around Nia and her daughter. Then two burly agents dragged Nia away from her daughter’s body as she screamed her heartache._

_Even as they dragged her away from Lexa, Nia shrieked her revenge, bitter tears at her cheeks. “You think you’ve defeated me, but this will never be over. Look over your shoulder wherever you go,_ Heda _. When you think you are most safe, that your children are safe, I will strike. I will kill every single person that you love, and when it’s all over, you will be begging for death.”_

_Her words had echoed in the walls of the penthouse, and in Lexa’s head months after. It made things worse when she had sat in the debriefing room with Luna._

_“Her name was Narcissa Frost. Just turned sixteen last week, went to Columbia Prep.” Luna stopped when she saw the ill look on Lexa’s face, but she had to tell her. Lexa had requested it after all. “From all we had found, she knew nothing about the true nature of her mother’s business. She didn’t know a thing.” At those words, Lexa’s stomach coiled, and she retched onto the carpet._

_She resigned as Commander of TRIKRU the next day. Luna had the good grace of granting her application as a sleeper cell, and she had cut all ties to the agency. All except Anya and Bellamy. The PI cover became her life, and for two years she allowed that to be her only reality._

_Until that fateful day when Clarke’s grandmother would walk into her office, and she met the love of her life._

 

* * *

 

 

Luna broke the silence that had fallen in the boardroom. “Roan.”  She tried to sound energetic as she called upon the Special Agent. Roan raised his head, seeming to shake away old ghosts as he acknowledged the General. “How do you feel about reaching out to your mother?” A protest was already hot on his lips, but Lorin cut him off before he could even let them materialize.

“He’ll do it.” She said firmly. Roan clamped his mouth shut, but then he stunned both Lorin and Costia when he instead turned to Lexa. It came as no shock to the older agents, who were well aware of Roan’s steely and unwavering loyalty to Lexa.

“Commander?” He asked. Lexa met his questioning stare, and she felt Clarke squeeze her hand gently. She took a deep breath before she answered.

“Make it sound as convincing as you can.” She advised him, and he inclined his head.

“Good.” Luna clasped her hands together. “So,” She looked around the table, as tactless as ever. “Anyone up for drinks? I’m buying.”


	7. Chapter 7

She was still ignoring them. It was evident in the way that she avoided their attempts at conversation during strategy sessions, or even walking the other direction in the hallways of the DIA HQ. That look of disappointment on Lexa’s face and the heartbreak shining in Clarke’s eyes was enough to make Costia want to give in. She wanted so desperately to allow herself the leisure of the warm embrace of her parents. She wanted Clarke to hug her until she felt like her ribs would crack.  She wanted that look of pride in Lexa’s eyes and that smile that only ever shined for their family. Costia felt like a rebellious child desperate to prove herself yet at the same time wished to crawl into her mothers’ arms and hide from the world.

But she could not. Despite that side of her that was starting to understand – marginally – why her parents had been so against her career choice, she also could not forgive their inability to empathize with her own needs. That, and the fact that they had kept their past lives a secret from her. Would it have changed her decision to join the agency? Maybe. But deep down she knew that she had yearned for this life. It was painful at times, and she had lost just as many friends as she had made them, but was it worth it? Costia honestly could not answer that question. But she knew that she would not have been happy as a winemaker, living a sheltered life in a world of paradise. She wanted to see the world, wanted to experience all that there was.

Yet, after six years of seeing all the horrors and evil that people had and could commit, she did not feel the need to shy away. She only felt that gut feeling in her stomach to stop them. Costia felt the wind her hair and the breeze on her face and the desperation to _do more_. And every mission she did fed that need like wood to a fire. Sure, the politics of the FBI sometimes interfered with what she did in the field, but at the end of the day, she was proud of her accomplishments. But most of all, she was proud of what she had become, of who she had become. For six years, she was more than _just_ Clarke and Lexa’s daughter. She was Costia Woods-Griffin, the agent who had been top of her class at the Farm. Track and field star, and Krav Maga extraordinaire. And for six years, it was not her parents’ achievements that had defined her.

The fact that her parents were secretly former operatives, the greatest agents in the world, challenged that self-realization. The world that she had crafted for herself was not actually hers alone; but for the intervention of her parents, and the even larger shadow of their legacy, she would have had the opportunity to carve out her own path. Now, as she sat on the abandoned balcony of the FBI building in Manhattan - the building itself empty on a late night- she attempted to come to terms with this new world order.

She heard footsteps behind her, and she knew by the click in their gait that it was Lorin. “Come to babysit me?” She asked bitterly. Lorin did not indulge her by answering, instead coming to stand by her, casually leaning her forearms on the railing.

“No.” Lorin murmured softly. “I’ve only come to check on you, as a concerned Director to an agent.” Lorin said softy as she used one hand to brush the flyaway strands of black hair away from her own face. Her blue eyes were filled with genuine care and something more when they met Costia’s gaze.

She swiped her tongue over her chapped lips, noticing the way Lorin’s eyes flickered down to her lips at the action. “Just that?” Costia asked, twisting to face the other woman. “Just as a Director to an agent?” She repeated, and Lorin’s eyes softened.

“Do you even have to ask?” The other woman’s tone was gentle, and Costia met her halfway when she pressed her lips against the Director’s. The kiss was warm and tender. But it was something they had not allowed themselves for many months, and so it quickly became heated, Lorin taking Costia into her arms, enveloping her against her body.  Displays of affection were dangerous, especially in their positions. But now, in the darkness of the balcony with only the lights of the New York City skyline to keep them company, Costia felt like she was in her own little bubble. Just her and the woman she loved. Lorin pulled away first, and her hand went up to cup her cheek as she breathed heavily from the heat of the moment.

“Stay with me tonight.” Lorin implored her, and Costia gave her a feather-light laugh.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” She played with the loose hair at the back of Lorin’s ponytail, twirling it in her fingers as she felt the muscle of her strong, slender neck.

“It’s only dangerous if you want it to be.” Lorin countered, and Costia leaned up on her tip toes to give her another, chaste kiss. “I don’t know.” She finally said, and Lorin furrowed her brow.

“Are you still upset about what happened at the meeting?” She rasped, and Costia shook her head, her fingers pressing down lightly on Lorin’s collarbone as she allowed herself to explore the length of her lover’s muscular body. She whispered a gentle “No” against Lorin’s cheek as she kissed her there. “I’m still figuring out how I feel about my parents.” She admitted, and Lorin hummed with understanding. Very cautiously, Lorin squeezed Costia’s waist comfortingly. “I couldn’t begin to explain what they were thinking.” Lorin said quietly. “But I do know that they love you.”

Costia’s breath was a breeze blowing by Lorin’s ear as she rested her chin on her shoulder. “I know.” She said. “I just feel like this life that I built for myself has been changed in a way that can never go back to how it was before.” Costia confessed, mouth quirked with confusion and distress.

“And you don’t like change.” Lorin finished for her, and Costia bit Lorin’s neck lightly in retaliation. Thankfully, Lorin did not push the subject, and she was content to let Costia’s lips find hers again in the dark. “Take me home.” Costia requested, and Lorin easily complied.

* * *

 

Costia drove into work alone the next morning, striding confidently out of the elevator to the boardroom for another meeting. She felt more comfortable and back to normal today. Better than the last few days since her mothers’ surprise. Part of her re-established equilibrium, Costia had to admit, was due to last night’s activities with Lorin, and her legs ached for the right reasons as she pushed the glass door and sidled into the meeting room to quickly claim a seat.

The other agents had already gathered, all except for Lorin. But that was not necessarily a surprise to Costia. She had marked her neck last night in the heat of passion, and Lorin had babbled on about having to go home to retrieve a change of clothes and some concealer.

Clarke, she noted, was in deep conversation with Raven and Octavia, while Roan and Luna were chatting casually with Lexa and Lincoln. Intimidated by the obvious familiarity among the senior agents, Costia quickly moved to sit by Avery. “Hey.” The agent chirped happily when Costia materialized at her side. The woman had been released from the hospital this morning after the doctor had evaluated the bullet wound as a through-and-through, and so she sat, happy as a clam, in the boardroom. Even injured, Avery looked as chipper as ever, her left arm in a sling and her wrist still decorated with the blue hospital band. “You left this on, numbskull.” Costia gave the blue band a tug with her index finger, and Avery swatted her hand away.

“Whatever,” She retorted congenially. “I was in a hurry to get out of there.” Avery said, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial note. “It smelled like death in there.” Before Costia could even ingratiate her friend with a laugh, a rolled-up file hit the injured girl on the back of the head.

“Of course it smells like death, people die in hospitals every day!” Octavia had strolled over to the two younger agents, and she ran a hand over her daughter’s hair with a motherly tenderness, soothing the spot that she had hit.

“Thanks for the fun fact, Mom.” Avery bit back sarcastically, but her face lit up with happiness when her mother reached down to plop a kiss on the top of her head. “When did you become such a smartass?” Octavia admonished, shaking her head in mock disappointment. She directed her warm gaze to Costia, and patted her shoulder in a friendly manner. “And how are you doing Costia?” She asked. Costia smiled at her politely in return. “I’m good, thanks.” Octavia appeared satisfied with the response, and she gave her shoulder one last pat before she moved away, padding back to where her husband was hotly debating something with Lexa and Roan.

Before Costia could attempt to eavesdrop on the conversation though, Lorin pushed through the door, and Luna immediately clasped her hands together loudly to get everyone’s attention. “All right.” She said as Lorin hastily found a seat at Luna’s left. “So, Roan has contacted Nia last night.” Luna began. “And she has agreed to meet with him.” When Costia looked over at the man in question, Roan’s bearded face was a ghostly pallor, and his usual bored expression now was scrunched up in stress.

“In addition to that, analytics found something else, Raven?” The senior agent acknowledged Luna’s introduction, and she clicked the remote controlling the projector screen at the front of the boardroom.

“Since Nia’s escape from prison five years ago, Ice Nation had been covertly operating under the pseudonym ‘Azgeda Incorporated.’” Raven reported briskly. “Our investigation into their finances reveals that they’re more or less involved in similar dealings as they had decades ago. Most of their income is from money laundering and terrorist financing activity both on home soil and overseas.” Raven clicked to the next slide. “This building is in central district of Washington, and these other two are Baltimore and Chicago. But the only one of interest right now is this one.” The senior agent clicked to the next slide, revealing a very modern tower in Midtown Manhattan. “It has 80 floors, and acts as the headquarters for the organization. The roof has a helipad, and the penthouse is currently occupied by Nia Frost. From what we have established so far, she has not played an active hand in the daily affairs of Azgeda. Instead, CEO Alain Hunter has been running the day-to-day operations in the office floor on the 70th suite.” A photograph of the CEO occupied the screen. Alain was probably in his early 30s, well-kept dark brown hair gelled stylishly above brown eyes and a eerily familiar nose. Raven turned to briefly meet everyone’s gaze. “It’s also the place where Nia has requested Roan to meet with her.”

Clarke was the first to object. “Right in the heart of enemy territory?” She said in surprise. “Was it impossible to meet at a neutral location instead?”

“When I suggested it, she refused.” Roan growled. “She won’t meet me anywhere else.” Clarke frowned, and she quickly turned to whisper into Lexa’s ear. Costia noticed the way they seemed to operate so seamlessly, and she tried to ignore the confused feelings of jealousy and wistfulness.

“He’ll be safe.” Raven assured Clarke from the other side of the table. “I’ve got some new gadgets, we’ll be able to listen to the conversation without fear of it being detected.”

“And we should probably set up some sniper points.” Lexa added, and Clarke agreed with a hum.

“And more importantly,” Raven added, “We suspect that this building is where the missing agents are being held.” There was a note of hope in her voice. “Based on the blueprints I obtained after hacking into their system, there was a section of their underground spaces that was remodeled in the last eight months. From the schematics, it looks like crude holding cells.”

“Why would they keep them alive for so long?” Avery asked, and Lexa winced visibly at the innocent question.

“I would assume she has been trying to obtain more information about the TRIKRU program.” Luna surmised. “It’s a team that has foiled many of her schemes, I’m sure that she would want to have some ‘fun’ with them, while also trying to weasel as much intel as she can about Lexa and Clarke’s whereabouts.” Luna’s eyes briefly ghosted towards Costia. “If she were to discover that Costia was Lexa and Clarke’s daughter, she would likely redouble her efforts to find her.”

“She won’t.” Lexa stated firmly, and it wasn’t just Clarke who agreed. All the senior agents seemed to flex their shoulders and sit straighter in their seats. No one was going to let Nia get to Costia, not without a fight. In that moment, Costia felt the strength that buzzed in the room, and she wasn’t sure if she should be annoyed that they felt the need to protect her, or embrace the sense of security found in the fact that they were so ready to do so.

“Octavia and Lincoln,” The two agents perked up, and Lexa gave them nods of approval. “You two will infiltrate the holding cells and investigate while Roan distracts Nia. I want our agents found.” There were noises of agreement, and Clarke added. “We won’t leave without all of our people. Not one is to be left behind.” There was a pregnant pause as the agents took in the levity of her words, and it was Lorin who broke it.

“When?” Lorin asked, speaking for the first time since she had arrived.

“Tonight.” Roan informed her with a low rasp. He looked like someone was pulling out his molars with a set of rusty pliers, Costia observed. He clearly didn’t want to do this, and as the agents stood and slowly filtered out of the room as the briefing finished, she cornered him out in the corridor.

“Roan, are you actually comfortable doing this?” She asked. He was silent for a moment, his eyes closed as he sighed heavily. “No.” He answered, and Costia poked him in the chest.

“Then tell them no.” She said. “Tell them you won’t do it.”

“It’s not that easy.” Roan said dismissively.

“Then help me understand.” Costia requested. Roan looked at her, his green eyes pinched with annoyance and exhaustion.

“I may not enjoy seeing my mother,” He started, “but I’m doing it to save Anya and Indra, and all the others that went missing and may yet be alive.” Roan bit his lip, then he added. “And I’m doing it because Lexa asked me to.”

“Who is Lexa?” Costia scoffed, all that frustration and anger bubbling to the surface at the mention of her mother’s name. “She’s not the Commander anymore.”

“But she’s still my friend. I owe her my life, and my loyalty.” Roan said, the timbre of his voice steady and sure. Costia stared disbelievingly, her eyes wide as the world she knew crumbled around her.

“Why? Why do you owe my mother so much loyalty?” She finally asked, and Roan smiled wearily.

“Because she was my Commander. She was _Heda_. I might not have agreed with every decision she made, but she made them to save our people. She made all the hard choices so that we wouldn’t have to, and she bore it all without a word of complaint.” Costia tilted her chin down, looking away from the earnest expression on his face. “No one ever thanked her for her sacrifice, and after she lost everything she loved, she led us anyway.”

“And my other mother?” Costia challenged. “What has she ever done, to ignite such loyalty from you?” Roan crossed his arms, and he leaned back against the wall.

“Why don’t you ask them yourself?” He retorted, tired with all the questioning from the irate young woman. “Admit it, you’ve been dying to talk to them again for the first time in years. And when you’re given the chance, you hide behind your bruised ego-”

“They lied to me!” Costia finally snapped. “They lied about who they were.” She clamped her mouth shut, and then she sighed loudly. “And now I don’t know if I should forgive them or not.” Roan was silent for a few heartbeats, then he placed a large hand on her shoulder. “You should.” He advised gently. “Because life is short, and you don’t want to live with regrets.” And Costia felt the weight of his words lay heavy on her shoulders as he walked away and left her in the corridor, alone.

* * *

 

“Nia will be with you shortly.” The Azgeda receptionist could be heard clearly through the wire that had been stashed strategically in the heel of Roan’s dress shoes. He was also wearing a tiny earpiece, but Lexa and Roan had already agreed that it would not be patched in to the op channel unless absolutely necessary. It was nice having the luxury to choose.

“I’ve got to admit, you’ve got some pretty high-tech gadgets here.” Lexa said, impressed. Raven shot her a smug smirk.

“Well it’s me, of course I’ve got the best shit around.” Lexa barked in laughter, and Raven slapped her on the back with mirth. The two of them sat together on rooftop of a tower across the street from Azgeda Incorporated, Lexa armed with her trusty sniper rifle, scope zeroed in on the meeting.

It was another dark, slightly cold night despite the spring season. Well at least it wasn’t raining, Lexa mused as she shifted slightly at her roost before she settled in and looked through the scope. She had a perfect view of Roan, and she slowly adjusted the sniper’s position as he was led into Nia’s penthouse suite.

“So what do you think?” Raven asked suddenly, and Lexa shifted her weapon five centimeters to the right. “What do I think about what?” Lexa mumbled absentmindedly.

“Do you think Octavia and Lincoln will find them down there?” Lexa paused, worrying her lip between her teeth.

“I hope so.” She finally answered. “For both our sakes.” Lexa added before she returned her full attention to where Roan was impatiently waiting for his mother to appear. Raven did not distract her again, not until a few minutes later.

“She missed you.” Raven said quietly. “Anya.”

“Just as much as you missed Clarke?” Lexa asked, her voice peppered with amusement, and Raven chuckled lightly.

“That’s a given.” Raven moved slightly, adjusting her seat. “Honestly, if you two hadn’t gotten together, I don’t think Anya and I ever would have met.”

“Mmm.” Lexa hummed distractedly. She had spied movement in the corner of her scope, and she shifted slightly. There. “I’ve got eyes on Ice Queen.” She announced, and Raven snapped to attention.

“Octavia, Linc, what’s your status?” Raven clicked into the secure channel. She had to wait a few seconds before noise crackled on the other side of the line.

“We’re almost inside,” Octavia reported. “We encountered a few blue coats, so we had to find some places to sneak in.”

Lexa paid them no mind. She had Nia in her sights. The Ice Queen had walked right up to Roan, and she watched as Nia raised a palm and moved to slap him. Roan caught her arm in the last second, gripping her wrist with an iron grip.

“You bastard.” Nia snarled, and Roan’s hackles raised with equal venom. “You come into my home thirty years after you betrayed me, rejected your birthright, and you expect me to welcome you back with open arms?”

“I came because you’re my mother.” He grunted emotionlessly. “I came because I finally understand. And I want to help.” The hint of barely disguised acid in his voice was convincing, and Lexa kept her fingers crossed that he could pull this off. “I don’t want to play second fiddle to anyone anymore.” He snarled. “I want to have it all.”

“And you think I would give it to you?” Nia scoffed. “Look at you,” the elderly woman gestured to his figure. “You wallowed with the lawmakers and the pigs for years, and now you come to me to claim your inheritance?” She spat in disdain. “Narcissa was never as weak as you.” Her voice sounded mournful, and even though years had passed, Lexa couldn’t prevent the sudden increase in her heart rate at the mention of the girl’s name. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily to slow her heart rate back to the lower beats per minute required to be effective at her role. When she felt her heart return to its slower rate, she opened her eyes and continued to watch the confrontation below.

“Narcissa was strong. She might not have known yet about the nature of Ice Nation, but I have no doubt that she would have accepted it. She was pragmatic. She knew what it took to achieve greatness.” Nia’s tone was wistful. “Not like you.” Her words were like a whip across Roan’s back, “you shirked away from it all. Narcissa would have been great. But now I’m stuck with you.”

Roan stood there, his jaw clenched tight. “So does that mean I should leave?” He finally growled through gritted teeth.

“It means I have to make do with what I have.” Nia replied icily. She turned on her heel and walked over to the bar located at the side of the living room, Lexa following her every step but failing to find a good view. The Ice Queen took two glasses from the cabinet, and she poured an amber liquid into each glass. She took one, pushing the other glass forward, flicking one index finger at her son. It was a test.

Roan stalked carefully over to her, and he handled the glass like it was a snake waiting to bite him. “Just drink it.” Lexa hissed to herself. “Come on, Roan.” She held her breath, and when he finally brought it to his lips and drank, she exhaled in relief. She wasn’t the only one satisfied by Roan’s compliance.

Smiling broadly, Nia walked around the bar and clapped her son hard on the shoulder. “I want you to prove your loyalty.” She said. Roan returned her gaze unflinching. “I want Lexa to pay for everything she has done to our family.” Nia downed the rest of her drank and placed the glass on the countertop with more force than necessary to punctuate her sentence. “I want you to bring her here to me, and I want to kill her myself.”

“Guys, we’ve found them” Lincoln’s voice suddenly crackled. “They’re in cages, Anya, Indra, and Ryder. We’re working on getting them out. But we need the surveillance turned off.”

“I’m on it.” Raven leapt to her feet and rushed to the center of the roof where her equipment was set up, and she immediately sat down before her laptop, fingers typing up a fury as she worked quickly to hack into the system.

Lexa tuned them out, focusing instead on Roan and Nia. The Ice Queen had moved slightly, and suddenly she had an unrestricted line of sight.  She had a shot. Her finger was about to pull the trigger when Clarke suddenly appeared at her shoulder, racing over from the stairwell. “Lexa stop!” She shouted, and Lexa froze.

She looked away from the scope and to her wife. “Clarke, what are you doing?” She hissed, but the blonde rushed over and tackled her down. Before Lexa could even react, she saw a bullet fly to where her head had been seconds before.

Lexa lay flat on her back, looking up at Clarke who had fallen on top of her, and overcome with adrenaline and remembrance of a time when they were in a similar position on a rooftop nearly twenty-five years ago, she craned her neck and connected her wife’s lips to her own in a passionate kiss. When they broke apart, Clarke smiled at her wanly, and as Lexa opened her mouth to question her, she placed a finger on her lips. “There’s a contract out on both of us.” Clarke said by way of explanation.

“Ah.” Lexa paused. “Who did it?”

“That CEO, Alain Hunter.” Clarke said, and as she lay there on top of Lexa, the brunette made a move to stand, but Clarke kept her pinned down. “Don’t move.” She commanded her. “Are you hurt?” Her hands moved to brush at her sides, checking for blood.

“I’m okay.” Lexa assured her, and Clarke kissed her once more. “What about the assassin?” Lexa broke away to ask, and Clarke hushed her with a chaste kiss on her nose. “Costia and Lorin just took care of it.” She said, and she tapped her own comm. “I came up to warn you, before it was too late.” Clarke kissed Lexa’s right cheek, then her let. “I’m not losing you, not after all that’s become of our lives.” And Lexa wrapped her arms tight around her in assent. “Never.”

“Hey lovebirds, a little help here!” Raven shouted, and they both immediately leapt to their feet. Lexa collected her sniper rifle from its perch before she rushed to join Clarke at Raven’s side.

“What is it?” Lexa panted.

“Octavia and Lincoln have smuggled our guys out into the caravan, but the blue coats caught on and they’re in a firefight in the second level of the parking lot.”

“On it.” Clarke said, and she was already striding away, but Lexa grasped her forearm in the last second.

“Clarke.” Lexa looked at her, and Clarke simply inclined her head.

“I’ll be okay.” She promised, and Lexa let her wife slip away between her fingers and disappear down the stairs.

Lexa turned to the penthouse suite once more. In the panic of Clarke’s arrival, she had tuned out the argument that Roan and Nia were having. But now, as she returned her full attention to the mother-son duo, she heard Roan argue profusely. She adjusted the tripod for her sniper, but to her great annoyance, Nia was no longer in sight.

“I can’t just bring Lexa to you with a bow on her head.” Roan snapped, clearly stalling. But there was no way of contacting him, not without throwing him off, and Lexa fumed in anger even as Roan did. “And even so, how does it prove my loyalty at all?”  Nia scrutinized him in icy silence, then she tilted her chin cockily.

“You’re right.” She agreed, and a wicked smile appeared across her wrinkled and weathered face. “Bring her here. But kill her yourself, in full view of me and my lieutenants. Then you may take your birthright.”

Lexa watched Roan freeze, and she saw the panic so clearly hidden behind a mask of indifference. She had to intervene. “Raven, patch me in to Roan’s ear mic.” She requested, and the other agent worked quick.

“You’re good.” She signaled with a  thumbs up, and Lexa clicked on her earpiece.

“Roan, accept the deal.” Lexa commanded. “I don’t have a shot. I repeat, I don’t have a clear line of sight. You have to accept the deal.” There was no indication that he had even heard, not until he finally unclenched his fists and held his hands flat against his thighs.

“Fine.” He snarled, and Nia beamed with obvious satisfaction.

“Get out of there, and get back to HQ.” Lexa ordered, and while she watched Roan make his excuses, she redirected attention to the other part of the mission. “Clarke and the others?”

“In the clear. Headed back to HQ.” Raven replied. After releasing a breath she did not know she was holding, Lexa closed her eyes and rubbed her face tiredly. They had been backed into a corner, and now she had to navigate her way out of the shit storm that her team had gotten themselves in. Clarke wasn’t going to like this at all.

Suddenly, there was a loud crackling noise on the comms, but when Lexa tried to make sense of it, all that came out was static. She pulled her earpiece out, and it fell to her palm in two pieces. It must have gotten busted when Clarke had tackled her, and she was about to ask Raven what was going on when the other woman released a gasp of pain and shock, and Lexa spun to face the agent. The other woman looked completely devastated, and tears were forming quickly. “Raven, what’s happened?” She asked, but the woman seemed to be holding back from an outburst as she paced, whatever it was causing her great distress. Lexa was quick to steady her, hands bracing Raven’s arms. “Raven talk to me,” She urged, and Raven gulped for air desperately before she replied.

“It’s Anya.”

* * *

 

“What the hell happened out there?” Luna was furious. She paced the front of the boardroom as she seethed at the agents assembled around her. With the exception of Raven, all of them had been ordered to return to HQ to explain the monumental failure that had just occurred. “You return without having neutralized the Ice Queen, and most of all, one of our missing agents is currently fighting for her life in ICU.”  Luna was icily quiet when she uttered those words. “Someone, please tell me what happened.”

“There was another player.” Lexa explained. “An assassin was trying to take me out the same time that I was trying to get a shot off at Nia.” She raised one eyebrow in Costia and Lorin’s direction. “And they took him out, but at that point I had already lost my line of sight.”

Luna released a groan, running a hand through her hair in stress. “What about Anya? What happened when you two,” she jerked her chin aggressively at Octavia and Lincoln, “were making exfil?” Lincoln and Octavia looked at each other, at a loss for words. It was Clarke who answered. The blonde was still covered in Anya’s blood, her shirt and forearms painted with red. “The blue coats had cut off the exits. Cos, Lorin, and I rushed over and managed to provide cover fire.” Her hands were shaking, and Lexa had to use all of her self-control not to barge over and just kiss the pain and the shock away.

“Anya took a bullet meant for me.” Lincoln admitted, his face still painted with the realization that he had almost died himself. “We managed to get her in the van, and Clarke did what she could, but there was just so much blood, and Anya was still weak from what she’d endured.” Lincoln stopped at that point, covering his face with his hands.

“Is she going to make it?” Lexa asked quietly, and Clarke was the only one who could answer.

“Maybe.” She sighed. “I just can’t tell right now, she was already weakened by the tortured Azgeda had inflicted on her.” Lexa’s fists clenched at her sides, and the desire to just march into the Azgeda tower and shoot Nia in the face sprung into the forefront of her mind.

“What about you?” Luna addressed Roan now. “So what, you’ve been ordered to bring Lexa in…for what? A fist fight to the death?” Roan was sitting, and he refused to look up at the General.

“It was the only way to maintain my credibility without getting killed.” He growled. “And Lexa told me to take the deal.” Clarke snapped her head at Lexa, blue eyes wide at the new information, and Lexa shook her head subtly – a signal telling her not to argue. That only enraged her wife further.

“You agreed to this?” She snapped. Clarke marched into Lexa’s space, furious. “Are you kidding me?” Lexa stopped her by covering her mouth with her palm.

“Luna, everyone’s tired and exhausted, can we continue this again after we’ve all had a good night’s rest?” Luna glared at Lexa for a second, before she relented. Lexa felt Clarke’s teeth sink into her hand, and she released her with a yelp. Clarke then stepped hard on Lexa’s toe and marched out of the room, Lexa rushing after her in an instant. “Clarke, wait.” She called after her as she shouldered through the door to get to her.

Across the room, Costia couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving her lips despite the levity of the situation. Lorin noticed, and she gave her a small smile before she addressed Luna. “Luna, despite the fact that we could not kill the Ice Queen, it would seem that her CEO Alain Hunter has gotten a contract out on Lexa and Clarke for $4 million.”

Luna nodded briskly. “What do you propose?” She asked, and Lorin wracked her tired brain before she answered. “We have someone with the money and the connections counter with double the price on a contract for Hunter instead.” Luna pondered the suggestion for a brief moment.

“Do it.” The General rasped. “Now go get some rest, all of you.” She inclined her head to the others before she started to leave. But before she stepped out the door, she turned back. “If anyone wishes to visit Anya, please wait until we get an update from Raven. I don’t want anyone crowding her right now. Feel free to see the others, but for the meantime let Raven have her time with Anya.”

The agents did not raise one word in protest, and with a final nod Luna let the door close with a quiet snick.


	8. Chapter 8

For perhaps the second time in her life, she felt like she was floating. There was nothing but a blinding whiteness around her, and it was like she was just a wisp of wind. She was just a soul floating in a vast abyss of nothing, and the ringing in her ears was the only company she had. She tried to move, to blink even. But there was no escape from the nothingness that surrounded her. It collapsed in on her, and there was a distant beam of light. She knew all the stories. If there was a white light, it meant that she was at the precipice between life and death. And she knew the almost universal advice; don’t walk toward it. Yet she felt something churning in her gut, calling her. She just did not know how to even walk toward the source of the light if she did not have a body, let alone a pair of legs to take her there.

But in her conundrum, she heard a distant sound. It was a voice. And she knew that voice well. That voice had whispered in her ear and had murmured words of love in a hushed tone – like it was their little secret.  The voice was a song, calling her from the sea. It was periodic, and she wondered just how long she had been floating in his state of here-but-not-here. It was the voice that she first heard whenever she woke from slumber, and then she realized that that was what she had to do. She yearned to hear that voice again, and to look upon the owner of that voice with her own eyes.

She strained at first. Her eyelids felt as if they had been glued shut. But she was desperate to live, to see the one that she loved, and it was the strength of her will that allowed her to prevail.

When Anya opened her eyes, she saw a world of white. But it was a familiar sight. It was a hospital room. The sheets felt thin under her open palms, and she tested the strength of her fingers as she used them to twist the sheets experimentally. There were tubes in her nose, oxygen to help her breathe, and an IV ran from a clear bag hung at her bedside to the flesh of her left arm. Each breath she took still made her chest ache, but instead of the sharp pain she had felt before, now it was more of a nagging soreness. The bandages her tight across her upper body, and her face still bore the bruises and scars won by her defiance against the Ice Nation.

She was slowly becoming more aware of the state of her body and what muscles remained out of commission. But most of all, it was the sight of the woman dozing in a chair at her bedside that made the muscle of her heart clench and thud louder and faster with each passing second. The loud beeping also seemed to be what woke Raven, and the brunette looked up sleepily and met Anya’s eyes with surprise.

She wordlessly leapt from her seat, and when she encircled Anya’s head in her arms, hands cradling her sharp cheekbones and contrastingly smooth skin, her brown eyes welled with unresolved emotions. “Raven.” Anya’s voice was shaky and raspy, dry from misuse, but she said it anyway. And the woman whose face now was inches away from her own ran her fingers through Anya’s dirty blonde hair, relying on her touch to make sure she was really here.

They existed in this bubble of quiet observation, of re-familiarization as Raven stroked her temple, and finally she dropped a tender kiss to Anya’s forehead. Her lips felt soft and affectionate against her skin. They spoke of the heartache, of the worry that had plagued her ever since she had been forcefully taken away from her even though not one word was audibly expressed. And yet, despite destiny’s dire attempts to keep them apart, here they were once more, taking strength and giving strength to each other. And as they breathed the same air again like it had been the first time, that cracked, broken thing in Anya’s chest slowly started to mend. “I love you.” Raven whispered her secret into Anya’s lips, and she returned the gesture with one of her own. Her right hand came up at a painstakingly slow pace, cupping Raven’s neck to keep her here, anchoring Anya into the present of reality. “I love you too.”

Raven smiled into the kiss, and she pressed her lips to every inch of Anya’s face. It was a familiar method of reunion for them, and Anya lived for the touch and the taste of this woman. After being bereft of her for months, Anya felt the rush of tenderness become too much. For the first time in decades, she allowed a tear to fall from her eyes as she was overwhelmed with the relief of being returned to her soul.

“It’s okay.” Raven hushed, gently brushing the tear away with her thumb. “You’re okay. I’m here.” Anya did not dare to close her eyes, fearful that once she did, Raven would disappear from her again. She tightened her grip on the other woman’s neck. “Promise?” She rasped, voice heavy with exhaustion and hazy from the morphine. “I’ll never leave you.” Raven swore, and she moved to sit on the edge of Anya’s bed, a hand brushing through her partner’s hair. “Rest,” she urged her, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” She looked up into those earnest brown eyes once more, and no longer strong enough to keep the tiredness at bay, Anya let herself to drift off to the best sleep she had ever had.

* * *

 

It was a warm night. Spring had finally decided to stretch its fingers into the weather, and the sky was still tainted blue. It was beautiful. Peaceful. Lexa looked out into the horizon, and she tried desperately to find this peace within herself. She leaned heavily against the railing of the apartment balcony. For the purposes of the mission, Luna had given Lexa and Clarke use of a safe house in Brooklyn, and as Lexa’s gaze flitted across the world around her, she felt a sense of content. It was like she was finally home, after a long drawn-out vacation.

Inside the apartment, beyond the sliding glass door, Clarke was fast asleep in the bedroom, lying across the entire expanse of the queen bed. She had no reason to share the warmth of the mattress, not when Lexa had been banished to the couch for the night. Though it was not a shock to Lexa at all. Not after the argument they had. It had been about the upcoming fight. The brawl that would be fought with Nia and almost the entire of Ice Nation watching. No, Clarke was not enthusiastic about it at all.

They were in their third hour of fighting. The raised voices and the hand gestures – at times, rude hand gestures – would have been enough to scare away a grown bear.  They had chosen opposite sides of the kitchen, battle lines drawn as the two women had stood as far away from one another as possible, irate as they were.

Lexa had spent the majority of her efforts during this argument to essentially end it, but Clarke had been adamant. She wanted her way, and she was determined to ensure her wife would not go through with the insane plan that had been so hastily concocted. The brunette had actually been in the midst of arguing her point when Clarke surprised her by going off topic. Or so she thought.

“Did you hit your head?” The blonde had asked suddenly. Dumbstruck by the randomness of her wife’s question, Lexa opened and closed her mouth, eyes narrowed in confused before she dared to speak. “What?”

“Did you hit your head?” Clarke repeated almost maliciously. “Because I swear, between that time when you were born to the moment I met you, you must have suffered some sort of damage to your memory.” Lexa stared at her in bewilderment, and Clarke rolled her eyes. “Do I have to spell it out for you?” She snapped. Clarke paced up to the middle of the room. “Almost every time we do a mission together, without fail you always end up in a stupid and avoidable situation.” Lexa’s mouth opened to protest, but Clarke raised her hand to stop her. “I’m not done.” She glared at her crossly. “I need to get this out right now, Lexa Woods, and you are going to listen.” She waited for Lexa to nod her assent, and when she did, Clarke rubbed her temples in frustration before she continued on her tangent. “You risk your life so carelessly at every opportunity. Every fire fight, every op, you make these gambles at the possible cost of your life. And you talk so nonchalantly about your death. Do you not care that you would be leaving behind a wife and daughter? A family that loves you?”

“Of course I do!” Lexa snapped. “And if I come across as someone unafraid of death, you’re wrong.” The woman marched up to meet her wife in the center of the room. “I don’t want to leave you, not ever.” Her voice was tight with emotion. “And I know the consequences of our plan. But she personally hunted down the agents that were my family, and executed countless more, all because of me.” Lexa released a pent up sigh. “Try to convince me otherwise, say what you must to get it off your chest, but this is personal.” Lexa turned her back to her wife, shoulders slumped with resignation.

“And I accept _that_.” Clarke replied almost instantly. “What I refuse to accept, is that you believe the only way to stop her is to play right into her hand!”

“Only if the plan fails.” Lexa retorted, and Clarke threw up her hands in exasperation.

“Which it truly could!”

“Clarke stop.” Lexa sighed. She slowly turned to face her wife, frustration evident in the way she held her shoulders how her nose pinched in stress. “I know you want to save me from this, but you can’t.” She raised her chin in a show of confidence. “Your first instinct has been to tell me no, to protect this family.” Cautiously, Lexa shuffled forward until she was inches away from Clarke, and she took her wife’s hands in her own. “But I need to do this. It’s the only way we can truly have peace.”

Clarke looked at her with despair and helplessness, but then rage gathered in her eyes. “I won’t just stand by and let this happen.” She snarled, pulling her hands away from Lexa.

The other woman let her go, and she felt her heart sink. “Clarke, please.” She attempted at peace once more. “You don’t have to understand, but I need you to believe that I’ll come back to you.” Clarke glared at her wife, and despite her words the woman only felt anger – anger that she couldn’t change this turn of events. But she saw that look in Lexa’s eye. She wasn’t going to back down. “I want to believe.” She finally confessed.  “Maybe, when we were younger, I would have. But not now.” Clarke attempted once more. “Lexa, please. I won’t let you do this, not when we’ve had a taste of what it’s like to have a normal life. Not when we’ve built a life together and already found our happy ending. I won’t lose _you_.” Lexa was silent at the revelation, and Clarke averted her gaze, scuffing her toe on the hardwood floor.

But Lexa was proud, and she would not permit her wife this one moment of vulnerability. Clarke may entreat as much as she wanted, but Lexa knew. Clarke was no damsel in distress. She was the commander of death, she had been made for this life, just like Lexa. They might have started out in different agencies, but they were from the same world. And that meant she would understand – albeit eventually – when hard choices were unavoidable. Lexa took a deep breath, steeling herself before she answered the gauntlet Clarke had thrown down to her. “I’m going to do this, whether you like it or not.” The brunette squared her shoulders and clenched her jaw, and Clarke’s body visibly sagged. Then her eyes were aflame, and she turned on her heel. “Sleep on the couch.” She shouted over her shoulder, and Lexa felt her previous bravado collapse in on itself.

Normally, she would not allow such an argument go unfettered. There would be an apology, and one of them would reach out to soothe the wounds that the lashing of words had caused. But tonight, Lexa knew that she could not do what her heart begged and pleaded her head to do. She would not. She could not. Not when she knew that the deaths of Gustus, Ryder, Nyko, and Titus all fell upon her shoulders. She had to do this, and nothing Clarke said could relieve her of her duty. She just knew that this would be something that would take a while for Clarke to get over.

* * *

 

“You talk to your parents yet?”

“Can we not talk about my moms right after we fucked?” Costia groaned into her arm as she lay flat on her back, chest heaving as she recovered from the strenuous activity. Lorin let her raspy chuckle fill the air of the bedroom - the expanse of the world where they were just Costia and Lorin, no titles and no responsibilities. The room was silent between them, and Lorin felt the bed dip slightly as Costia shifted onto her side to face her.

Despite the late hours that had drained both of them of most of their energy, they had still found some time to be together like this. When they could exist side-by-side, stripped naked of their positions in the agency without fear of damnation. And now, lying in bed together, Costia took advantage of the moment to relax for once. Next to her, Lorin had closed her eyes, pure exhaustion having set in after round five. Costia took that time to examine the woman next to her. The bags under her eyes hung heavy, the lines on her face illuminating by the moonlight. She looked as spent as Costia had felt deep in her bones. And for now, Costia was content to simply lay there, a satisfying ache settling between her legs. 

Lorin was dozing off when the sound of Costia’s sharp voice jolted her awake. A feat she never thought could be accomplished.

“Why do you care so much about it anyway?” Costia inquired, her voice feather-light. Lorin took a little while to respond, but when she did she was reluctant about it. But it was time. “Because I never had what you did.” Costia propped her head up on her hand, elbow planted by Lorin’s pillow as she listened. Lorin looked up at the ceiling, refusing to meet her gaze. “I never had parents who loved me enough to care. Sure, they would call every other weekend, and send gifts on holidays or birthdays, but they were always cold.” Lorin released a pent up breath of air, her voice quiet in the dark. “Once I was old enough, I was sent to boarding school. Then after I turned eighteen, it was military school, then the FBI.” Her throat bobbed slightly. “I did all of it to make my parents proud.” She closed her eyes, and she felt Costia’s fingers thread through her hair in soothing motions. “But it was never enough. And they don’t even care, not about the Directorship, nothing pleased them.”

Costia hummed in sympathy, gently dropping a kiss to her forehead. “But does it matter?” She asked quietly. “Your achievements are your own, regardless of what they think.”

“But they’re still my parents.” Lorin countered. “They’re supposed to be family, and they should care about what I do with my life.” Gently, she reached out a hand to brush against Costia’s bare waist. “Having a family that actually gives a shit, those are rare. Especially ones who would come back to a life of danger and death, just to make sure their daughter was safe.”

 Costia bit her lip, and she could not avoid the sympathetic, knowing look in Lorin’s eyes. She knew what she had to do. But she wasn’t going to admit it, not to the woman with the smug face. So instead, she let Lorin’s words fall between them, and she waited. Waited until the other woman had given up and had closed her eyes, breath starting to slow and even in the night, and then she whispered her assent. “You’re a smartass.” She murmured the words like they were a secret, and kissed the lightly snoring Lorin on the cheek in goodbye. Then as nimble as a cat, Costia slipped away from the exhausted, slumbering woman to seek out the solace that she needed.

* * *

 

“How long have you been standing there?” Lexa had barely given indication that she knew her daughter was there. She had stood unmoving, looking out toward the dark sky, lean muscled frame at ease.

Costia walked over to join her mother, hands in her pockets as she shyly stood next to her. “Not long.” She replied gently. “Luna gave me a key, a few days ago.” Lexa chuckled, eyes still fixed on the night sky, examining the One World Trade Center in all its newfound glory. Costia followed her mother’s line of sight, and she let her confidence build up marginally before she spoke again. “I didn’t want it, when she gave it to me.” She didn’t know _why_ she brought up mention of the spare key again.

“Then why did you?” The lazy roll of Lexa’s voice lulled Costia, made her nostalgic of her years as a teenager. Her mother always spoke in that tone when she was content to let her daughter twist and coil within herself before she confessed to something she had done. The last time, she had crashed the dusty blue pick-up truck into a tree when she was sixteen. And she felt just as nervous coming clean then as she did now. She ran her tongue over her teeth, one of her tells.

“I don’t know.” Costia lied. And that was that. For all of five seconds. “I guess,” She started, and she swallowed again, nervous, “I guess I wanted some way of reaching you guys. Even though I wasn’t talking to you two, I just liked having the option anyway.”

“Mhm.” Lexa hummed deep in her throat, arms loose at her sides and hips leaning against the railing as she finally turned to look at her daughter. She took her time. She admired the slope of her nose, the brown locks that were tied up in a messy ponytail behind her. The light dusting of freckles on her cheekbones. But it was the green eyes that made the side of Lexa’s eyes crinkle with fondness. “They were blue before.” She commented.

Costia, who had held her mother’s gaze, raised an eyebrow in confusion, and Lexa gestured with her hand. “Your eyes.” Lexa clarified. “They used to be as blue as your mother’s.” Costia looked down shyly, and Lexa’s heart expanded within her chest. “You used to be the spitting image of her, of Clarke.”

“Except for the blonde hair.” Costia acknowledged, and Lexa hummed her agreement.

“Except for the hair.” She conceded. “And now, you’re grown up.” Lexa said tenderly. “You’ve become your own woman.” Her eyes flitted up and down, staring in wonder at the girl who once stood at her knee. “It feels like it was yesterday, when you were born.” Lexa’s tone was wistful, eyes playful and teasing. “And we had no idea what we were doing.” Her eyes darkened slightly. “After all, our entire lives, all we were taught was how to kill. No one taught us how to live.”

Costia’s eyes widened at her mother’s softly spoken words, and against her will, her curiosity got the better of her. “When did you start? With the DIA.”

Lexa tapped her fingers against her jawline before she answered. “When I was sixteen, I was recruited by the DIA. They had taken notice of me, found my particular skills of persuasion and leadership great assets that they could capitalize on.” She looked thoughtful, scratching her chin as she spoke. “They put me in the TRIKRU program, and I met Anya there. We became fast friends, and when I was chosen to be the commander, she became my lieutenant.

“We had an excellent track record. Zero mission failures for two years. But then Dragon Strike happened, and my former girlfriend, Costia, she was killed. Then there was that whole situation with Nia, and then meeting your mother two years later. When she met me, I was a shell. I had put head over heart, said love was weakness and believed it. But then I fell in love with her, and when my former mentor, Marcus Kane, sought to take that love away from me, we fought back together. And we won.” Lexa recalled that day when she had launched the assault on his desert hideaway with Clarke. It felt like yesterday, though it was actually twenty-five years ago on this day.

“Then what happened?” Costia prodded when her mother had fallen silent, and Lexa grinned.

“Then we retired.” Lexa leaned both elbows on the glass railing. “During the assault on the Kane mansion, your mother had suffered a critical injury. She was touch and go for a few weeks, and I will always remember what it was like, sitting at her bedside, hoping she would wake up.” The eerie silence of the hospital room, the sterile whiteness of the bedsheets, nothing about it had made her feel comfortable. “And when I sat there, I decided. Never again, would I live this life where the ones I love would be under threat. So, when she finally got better, I proposed that we move somewhere more relaxing to rehabilitate. And she chose Tahiti. Two years later, and we had gotten married and had you. The rest, you know it.”

Costia processed this information quietly, and Lexa let her stew in her thoughts. The older woman was completely untroubled, expression serene as she stood next to her daughter.

At last, when Costia looked up from her study of the balcony flooring, she appeared to be at peace. “I think I finally understand.” She said, and Lexa cocked her head, but did not interrupt. “I get why you and Mom didn’t want me to do this.” She rested one hand on the railing, a hair’s breadth away from her mother’s arm. “You wanted to save me the heartbreak of losing the same things you did.”

Lexa’s eyes brimmed with a surprise and happiness, looking upon her daughter lovingly. “When you have a kid, you hope that they don’t make the same mistakes that you did.” She agreed gently. “When you announced your decision, I was worried that you would never have the normal life that Clarke and I had always wanted.”

“And I get that.” Costia sighed eventually, and she tentatively reached her fingers to brush against the back of her mother’s hand. “And I think I finally get why you said the things you did, when I left. Everything you did was to protect me.” Costia cautiously tangled her fingers with Lexa’s, and when she squeezed her hand bracingly, she fought the urge to cry with the utter joy of being comforted by her mother again. “Thank you for trying so hard to give me the things that you and Mom never had, and thank you for giving me a chance at a normal life instead of one filled with danger and violence.” Costia took a deep breath, throat bobbing as she prepared herself. “But most of all, thank you for giving me the luxury of choosing my own way.”

She felt awkward, uncomfortable about bearing her emotions before her mother. She had thrown herself out there, had stripped herself of her defenses, and now she scuffed her shoe, unsure. Lexa stared at her for a few more seconds, completely unmoving, expression unreadable. Then she surged forward and took her in her arms in a hug, and Costia sank into the embrace, warmth filling her from head to toe. She was home.

“Your mother will be so mad that you spoke to me first.” Lexa mumbled into her daughter’s shoulder, and Costia laughed.


	9. Chapter 9

Clarke lingered at the doorway. Anya was sleeping peacefully, her hands tucked at her sides. Her face was still bruised, and there was a row of butterfly stitches on her temple, but she was immeasurably healthier by the rosy pallor of her skin alone. Clarke had run into Raven on the way over. She had flagged her down in the hallway when she saw the familiar brown ponytail and slender shoulders exit the room. She was on her way to HQ; the engineer had developed a few fancy toys that were to be used when storming Azgeda and was due back to load it up and give the field agents some quick instructions. But Clarke could tell that she was bereft to leave Anya’s side, though she made a show of being preoccupied and focused on the mission. The other woman had offered to come back another time, but Raven had rolled her eyes at her and shoved her gently in the direction of the room, and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Now as she inspected the injured agent from the threshold, Clarke decided that Anya looked too peaceful. It would be a crime to wake her, not when she had been without a good night’s rest in months. She was just about to leave when Anya stopped her. “You coming in, blondie?”

Clarke hid her smile behind her hand as she leaned against the doorway. “Are you ever going to stop calling me blondie?”

 Anya’s eyes were still closed, but there was a shit-eating grin on her face. “Nope.” Clarke rolled her eyes, but walked in and plopped down on the empty chair at the other woman’s bedside. “Nice to see nothing has changed.” Clarke commented, her fingers drumming on the armrest. “Not that that’s the first time I’ve been so underwhelmed.” She added under her breath, and Anya opened one eye to squint at her.

“Okay, what did my idiot best friend do this time?” She asked, and Clarke gave her a look. “That bad, eh?”

“I came to see you.”

“Liar.”

Clarke sighed loudly. Anya wasn’t going to drop it, so instead she stretched her legs up to rest on the bed next to Anya’s feet. The woman was too tired to protest the presence of Clarke’s dirty shoes on her sheets, and she instead gave the woman her full attention. “My bull-headed, stubborn mule of a wife, has once more placed herself in a potentially disastrous mission.”

Anya leaned back against the pillows from where she was propped up, and she laughed. “Tell me all about it.” Clarke shook her head, and with a groan she recounted the plan for the op. When she finished, Anya scratched her forehead, seemingly unaffected.

“Well I have to say, this isn’t the worst mission she’s ever done.” She announced, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at her.

“That doesn’t mean anything to me.” Clarke snapped impatiently. “Lexa might have had the prowess of fucking Jason Bourne back in her twenties, but she’s not that young anymore.”

“You doubt her abilities because we’ve aged?” Anya gave her a quizzical look. “That’s discriminatory.”

“You know what I mean.” Clarke groaned, and she covered her face with one hand. “Why do I even bother talking to you about this?” She asked, rubbing between her eyebrows. “You’re just going to side with her anyway.”

“Wrong.” Anya contradicted her calmly. “I’m not siding with her. I’m just saying that it could be worse.”

“Wow, that was really comforting.” Clarke’s sarcasm was dripping with every word, and Anya started chuckling, before she started coughing. One hand covered her chest, and Clarke sat up with concern. Her hands hovered, and Anya waved her away. “I’m fine, leave me alone.” Anya wheezed. “Actually, no, hand me that glass of water.” Clarke did as she requested, and Anya took her time sipping with the straw, trying to get some moisture in her throat.

When she had finally finished drinking, Clarke took the glass and returned it to Anya’s food tray. “Look at you.” Clarke said, eyes flickering over the injured woman. “Don’t you think you’re getting too old for this shit?”

“Are you channeling your inner Murtaugh?” Anya smirked. “And I’m not that old. 53 is the new 43.”

“Tell that to your wrinkles.” Clarke shot, and Anya flipped her off congenially, smug smile on her face.

“I missed this, blondie.” And Clarke rolled her eyes. Anya’s gaze was nostalgic, and her voice was wistful. “You and Lexa should have visited more often.”

“I know.” Clarke sighed. “It just didn’t feel right to intrude on Costia’s life.”

“Ah.” Anya was quiet . “She’s a great agent, Clarke.” She was aware of how contentious the topic was, but Anya didn’t work her ass off not to brag about her former student. “Everything she did as a recruit was based on instinct. It was like she was made for this life.” Clarke bit her lip, and the forlorn expression on her face made Anya feel bad. But not that bad. “You should be proud.”

“I am.” Clarke agreed softly, and her eyes were thankful instead of furious. Anya was surprised. “Thank you for watching out for her.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Anya was quick to object. “Any kid of yours is family to me.” She grinned at the blonde. “Do you thank family for looking out for each other?”

“I guess not.” Anya gave her a winning smirk, and she leaned her head back, eyes closed. “By the way, shouldn’t you be at headquarters, with the rest of the team?” Clarke had been trying to avoid that question, but she answered eventually.

“I don’t know if I want to see Lexa lose. Even if it’s all for show.”

“People often make sacrifices for the ones they love.” Anya intoned wisely, and then she refused to say a single word after that. She let those words sink in, and for all of Clarke’s iron resolve, even the thought of leaving Lexa to her fate made her heart clench painfully. She had hoped that Anya would have distracted her, that she would stick to her stubborn decision not to accompany the team. But she wasn’t going to let Anya _know_ she was right.

“Is this your subtle way of telling me to get out?” Clarke sassed Anya, not expecting a response.

“It’s me telling you to go support your wife and daughter. Dumbass.” Anya mumbled sleepily, and Clarke stood, flicking the other woman on the forehead.

“Jerk.”

“Worrier.”

“I’ll come back later.” Clarke was rushing out the door, hoping to catch Lexa before it was too late, when she heard Anya’s voice.

“Bring the jackass with you next time!”

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m only going to say this once, but I have a bad feeling about this.” Roan stacked the padded box of explosives into the back of the van, and Lexa punched him in the shoulder as she walked past him to pile another box into vehicle.

“I don’t think the FBI pays you to be a pussy.” Lexa sneered, and Roan rolled his eyes.

“I’m just saying, Lexa.” Roan closed the van doors with a thud and leaned against it, frowning. “My mother is cunning person. Whatever you’re thinking, she’s three steps ahead.”

“We’ll see.” Lexa’s words were final, and she strode over to Roan’s 1967 Mustang where two agents Luna had assigned them – Sterling and Brown – were waiting for instructions. “Drive the van to Azgeda, get down to the parkade, and when Special Agent Woods-Griffin gives you the signal, follow the plan and rain down hell.” The two men squared their shoulders and stood straighter, puffing their chests. Sterling bowed his head to Lexa, and she thought he looked familiar by the strength in his jaw and the shape of his head. “Heda.” He said reverently, and then Lexa connected the pieces of her memory.

“You’re Gustus’s son.” When he nodded, she rested a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.” Sterling simply bowed his head to her once more before he went to assume his position in the team. At the corner of her eye, Lexa saw Raven approach. Her limp was slightly more pronounced today. No doubt because of her past few days sleeping at Anya’s bedside.

“Hey Woods.” Raven stopped by. “You ready?” Lexa nodded, and the other woman gave her a quick pat on the head. “Good. Because Clarke won’t accept it if you don’t return.”

“It would be illogical to assume that I would not be planning on coming back in one piece.” Lexa stated, and Raven waved her away.

“Yeah, yeah Spock.” The woman marched off determinedly, and Lexa smiled at the familiarity of it all.  Octavia and Lincoln were prepping at their own designated vehicle, doing a double-check on the arsenal of weapons they had stocked up. Costia and Avery were chatting animatedly nearby, both young women dressed in tactical gear and ear pieces. And as she took in the sight, Lexa felt such pride for her daughter; Costia was in her element, and the ease at which the girls moved was reminiscent of how Clarke and Raven had worked as a team before Lexa had come into the picture.

“Mom?” Costia had walked up to Lexa, and the older woman shook the memory from her head.

“Yes, Cos?” Lexa blinked at her daughter.

“Is Mom coming with us?” Costia asked hopefully, and Lexa sighed.

“I don’t think so.” Lexa said, and Costia looked crestfallen at the announcement. “It’s okay.” Lexa brushed Costia’s cheek gently. “She’ll come around eventually.” Costia sighed, and she opened her mouth to say something when Luna strode over, Lorin at her shoulder.

“All right, you all ready to hit the road?” Luna asked enthusiastically. Lexa frowned at her, but that just made Luna grin at her. “By the way, you should probably have someone beat you up a little.” Lexa gave her a look, and Luna chuckled. “All right, I get it, you know the drill.” Lexa wiggled one eyebrow, and turned away to confer with Roan once more. Costia took Lexa’s lead, returning to where Avery was adjusting the scope on her assault rifle.

While signaling for Roan to ready the car, Lexa watched as Lorin marched over to the two younger agents, an air of purpose in her step.

Lorin cleared her throat, and both agents turned around to face their Director. “Agent Blake, Woods-Griffin,” she lifted her chin coldly, “good luck.” Avery followed it up with a brief tilt of her head. She glanced at Costia, who met her gaze. After a few moments of silent discussion, Avery marched off to her parents’ car to wait for her.

Costia shuffled closer to Lorin, who kept her hands firmly at her sides. “Be careful.” Lorin said quietly, and Costia gave her a fleeting smile. “I will, Director Dayne.” Lorin seemed to find what she assurance she needed from her, and she dismissed her with a slight twitch of her finger.

Lexa bit her lip in thought as she observed their interaction, and once her daughter had strode off, Lexa marched up to Lorin. “A word, Director?” Lorin hid her surprise behind a mask of indifference, and she followed Lexa over to a quieter spot in the parkade. Lexa didn’t waste time in small talk, and went straight to business. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”

“What?” Lorin hid her panic as best as she could, but Lexa was determined.

“Don’t waste my time playing dumb.” She growled. “And let’s talk like adults.” She proposed, and after a heartbeat, Lorin spoke. “I love her.” She confessed. Lexa scrutinized her for a hard minute before she even acknowledged that she had heard her.

“You’re her Director.” Lexa said. “There are so many reasons why this is a bad idea.” She said, and Lorin avoided her gaze.

“We’ve been careful.” Lorin answered cautiously, and Lexa scoffed loudly.

“You’ll get caught eventually.” She retorted. “One way or another, the truth always has a way of coming out.” And Lexa poked Lorin in the shoulder. “You’re smart. Figure out a way for you two to be together without the potential of a scandal.” Lexa half-ordered, half-advised before she turned away, conversation finished. She had said what she needed to say, it was up to Lorin and Costia to figure out how to navigate the storms of their relationship. She just hoped she would be alive to see it.

“You ready?” Roan was standing in a boxing stance, and Lexa nodded.

“Make it look good.” She brace herself, and the fist was coming fast. She closed her eyes, but it never came. Instead, she saw her wife gripping Roan’s wrist to stop him.

“What the hell, Lexa?” Clarke snapped, and Lexa released a bark of laughter.

“Clarke, I need to look a little battered.” She said, and her eyes were affectionate as Clarke fumed at her. “And you think Roan deserves to be the one to do that?” Clarke hissed. “He’ll be doing that later already.”

“Well what alternative do you have then?” Lexa bit back, amusement glinting from her eyes, and Clarke huffed loudly at her. She stared Lexa down, and before anyone could anticipate, Clarke delivered a swift punch right at Lexa’s nose.

Lexa’s head jerked back with the blow, and the cracking noise had drawn the attention of every other agent in the room. “Mom!” Costia said, clearly disapproving by the indignant look on her face as she rushed over to Lexa. The woman was pinching her nose, attempting to stem some of the bleeding. There was the hint of a bruise already appearing, and Roan was the first to break the silence.

“That was awesome.” He chuckled. “Go Clarke.” He raised his hand to high-five her, and Clarke just shoved him away.

“Are you fine?” Clarke asked her wife nonchalantly, and Lexa gave her a look between watering eyes.

“Just peachy, thanks.” She replied.

“Your mother is fine, go get ready.” Clarke said to Costia. Her daughter looked at the two of them, unsure, but when Lexa blinked at her in reassurance, she trudged away. Clarke turned to her wife, and she reached out to bat Lexa’s hands away from her own face. Her fingers felt along the bone of her nose, and satisfied that she had not broken it, Clarke stepped back.

“Just in case it wasn’t clear, that was for yesterday’s argument.” Clarke informed her almost gleefully, and Lexa raised one hand in surrender.

“Fair enough.” She agreed. Blue met green, and Lexa smiled at her warmly. “I’m glad you came.” She remarked, and Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Of course I did, you idiot.” She took Lexa’s hand in hers, squeezing tightly. “Now let’s go finish this.”

 

* * *

 

When Lexa stood facing Nia, hands bound in front of her, she did not have to hide the snarl of pure hatred. The Ice Queen glared back, and at Lexa’s position – bound and pushed down to her knees, Roan pointing the butt of his gun at her head – her lips formed a smug expression as she sat observing her, legs crossed as she basked in her already assumed victory. Surrounding them on either side were her lieutenants and most trusted blue coats of Ice Nation, and she sat regally, framed by an elaborate fireplace.

“I’m surprised she isn’t as battered as I expected.” Nia sneered, and she strolled down from her seat at the head of her ‘throne’ room to inspect the fabled Heda.

Lexa had to endure the jeering of Azgeda lieutenants as Nia circled her like a predator, every instinct in her body screaming at her to move. She could kill her, right now with their proximity.

But she had to follow the plan. And Roan seemed to be thinking the same thing when he kicked her roughly. She felt flat on the ground with an exaggerated groan of pain, to the mocking of the audience around them.

“Broken nose, ribs, collarbone, punctured lung.” Roan listed off her fictional injuries. “She didn’t come easy.”

“I would expect not.” Nia agreed, and she stood in front of Lexa, who had pushed into her kneeling position again. She wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin right off her face.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Alain, who had occupied a seat next to Nia’s, called out impatiently. “Kill her and be done with it.”

“Now now Alain, that would be much too easy.” Nia said, and she reached down and grabbed Lexa’s chin, turning her head from side- to-side like she was inspecting a prized Thoroughbred. She released her, and Lexa’s jaw snapped, missing her hand by inches. Nia retaliated with a stinging slap that sounded across the room, to the cheers of her men. “No,” Nia continued, wiping her hand on Lexa’s shirt, “I would like to be entertained first.”

Lexa spat out a glob of blood, glaring up at Nia, her face burning with pain. But she was playing right into their trap, and she didn’t need to see Roan’s face to know he was just as silently hopeful that Nia would allow them to play it their way. “Do you need her to beg?” Alain protested angrily, “Just kill her!” He waved his hand at Roan. “Shoot her already!” He shouted, and Nia swung her head at him.

“Be quiet, Hunter!” She snarled. “You may have the title of leadership, but I am the Queen.” She hissed, and the man instantly closed his mouth, his expression petulant and furious.

“Mother,” Roan addressed her, and when she redirected her attention to him, he straightened his spine. “Allow me to fight this piece of filth in hand-to-hand combat.” He suggested. “You can watch as I beat her to death with my bare hands, and I can finally kill the one person who has never given me the respect I deserve.” He growled.

Lexa remained silent, breathing heavily as she watched Nia ponder her son’s suggestion. She held her breath, yet outwardly wore a visage of pain and hatred.

Nia glared back at her, and then she looked around at her lieutenants. “What do you say?” She asked, and the men jeered and shouted in agreement. “Then let it be so.” She ordered, turning with a swish of her dress to perch at the throne that she had made herself.

Immediately, the crowd began to give Roan and Lexa a wide berth, forming a ragged circle around them. As Roan stepped in front of her to cut the zip ties around her wrist, he made a show of shoving her to the ground, to the cheers of the audience. Lexa felt a cold pinching slide down her boot, and she maintained her cold façade, slowly getting to her feet to face Roan.

He stood with his hands protecting his face in a traditional boxer’s stance, mirroring his pose earlier. Lexa made a point to appear more sluggish and weak, one arm pinned to her side to fake a punctured lung. They circled each other like starving wolves, and then Lexa lunged first. She used her ‘good arm’ to throw a hard jab at Roan’s face, which he avoided by ducking in the last second.

He retaliated almost instantly, a swift uppercut only missing her jaw by a hair’s breadth. She pivoted away, sending a roundhouse kick at his head that he blocked with his forearm. Careful not to appear too fresh, Lexa released a loud groan of pain as if the motion had aggravated her pre-existing wounds, and the blue coats shouted abuse and insult at her.

They broke away, circling again. While she moved on the pads of her feet, she noticed Alain watching with a vested interest. There was a gleam of excitement and great hunger, his hands twitching like he wanted to fight her himself.

Then a fist came singing at her. She could have avoided it, but she intentionally allowed the hit, and Roan sent it hard into her stomach. Lexa groaned, only partially pretending at this stage. She covered her face with one arm, and used the other to land an uppercut at his jaw.

Roan’s neck snapped back, and she took advantage of the momentary lapse to crouch down and sweep his legs under him. He landed hard on his back, and Lexa stayed where she was. She wouldn’t press further, not when she was meant to lose. To his credit however, Roan recovered fast, leaping to his feet and countering with a snarl and a kick that sent Lexa hurling to the ground.

She felt the back of her head hit the hardwood, and Lexa’s vision blurred. Blinking to clear her vision, Lexa attempted to fight through the dizziness that had set in, but then hands grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her up. She was still stunned when Roan lifted her above his head, and it seemed all too real when he threw her across the room.

She landed with a loud crack, skidded several feet. A few of the lieutenants standing closest to her kicked her, and she rolled back into the center of the circle. Roan stalked over to her, and she struggled to her feet with a hushed groan.  A quick assessment of her body told her that she certainly had broken ribs now, and she released a low, inhuman growl as she readied herself.

Roan’s eyes were chips of flint, and he lunged at her. In the last second, she jumped away and kicked out his knee. As he let out a cry of pain, she punched him hard in the mid back, and he sprawled forward. He rolled over onto his back, looking up at her with a hidden question that she shook away with a quick blink of her eyes. She wanted to get him riled up, and she kicked at his head. He jerked away, and his hands caught her leg. Lexa let an involuntary moan of pain as he yanked her legs out from under her, and she fell hard onto her side.

Roan loomed over her. Lexa tried in vain to get up, but he pressed a boot down hard on her chest. She felt her ribs crack, and she let out a loud bark of pain amidst the roar of the crowd. Roan was standing victorious. Lexa did not dare move, lying flat on her back with a defeated expression. He stared down at her, his jaw clenched.

“Finish it!” Nia shouted, leaping from her seat. “Kill her, you fool!” Roan’s eyes blazed, and he pulled his 10mm from the waistband of his pants. He cocked the weapon, aiming at her head. Looking up into the barrel of the weapon, Lexa felt her heart quicken.

She chanced a quick glance at Nia. She looked ecstatic, her eyes wide with excitement. Next to the Ice Queen, Alain was gripping the armrest tightly, his knuckles white as he watched with particular attentiveness. Lexa returned her gaze to Roan, and then it was just the two of them amidst the yelling and shouting. He looked at her, clearly waiting. She met his eyes, and with a firm nod, he was stirred into action.

Beyond them, Nia shouted curses at Roan. “Fool, what are you doing?” She shouted. At that moment, Roan whipped his firearm toward her, and before she could even register what was happening, he fired.

The fireplace behind her burst into a giant ball of flame, and instantaneously the support columns erupted around the throne room in a fiery mess of rock and mortar.

Lexa leapt to her feet the second they had put their plan into motion, and she sprinted up to where Nia was attempting to recover from the explosion that had knocked her off her feet. Alain was nowhere in sight, and the blue coats were shouting in the chaos. She had vaguely caught sight of Roan shooting out the windows, and she saw familiar shapes rappelling down from the floor above.

But she was focused on one person, and one person alone. Lexa jumped up the last few steps, and when Nia noticed her arrival, it was too late. Lexa kicked her in the face, and she watched as Nia collapsed to the ground. The older woman crawled slowly, leaning against a fallen piece of stone. Lexa glared imperiously down at her. “You’re done, Nia. For good.” She spat, and she kicked the woman in the side, and she fell once more. Suddenly, Nia threw a fistful of broken mortar and rubble at her face, and while she was disoriented, Nia leapt at her. With a snarl of rage, Lexa dropped and rolled away from her. She wiped furiously at her eyes, and just as her vision cleared she saw Nia brandish a stiletto, the silver glint of the blade gleaming as it rushed at her. Lexa swerved out of the way, and Nia swung and slashed at her. Lexa backed away with each empty slash in the air, until she saw an opening. With great precision, Lexa caught her by the wrist and tightened until her heard the bones crack. Nia screamed in pain, and Lexa snatched the stiletto in midair as the Ice Queen dropped it.

Lexa pointed the stiletto at Nia’s throat, and without second thought, she plunged it deep into her neck. Nia let a gurgle of outrage, and Lexa shoved the weapon deep into her flesh. Then, as Nia glared at her in pure fury and shock, Lexa ripped the blade from her skin. Blood spurted like a waterfall, and Nia fell to the ground, her screams of wrath became bubbling nonsense until she finally fell silent, her blood pooling the ground. She watched as the light went out behind Nia’s eyes, and then Lexa dropped the stiletto, the noise hardly comparing to the chaos they had instigated, and immediately Lexa was made aware of the situation surrounding her.

Lexa searched the throne room, and she instantly found Costia. The young agent was grappling with five blue coats, and Lexa leapt over, reenergized by the need to defend her daughter. She knocked out one of the assailants with a swift punch to the back of the head, kicking out the legs of another. Costia took out the other three, and she was about to deliver a punch at Lexa, eyes dark with battle rage.

“Cos!” Lexa shouted, and that jolted recognition into Costia’s eyes. The battle lust faded from her eyes, and she when she realized that it was her foolhardy, brave mother standing before her, Costia lunged forward and gripped her tight in a ferocious hug. Lexa clasped her arms around her, letting out a loud laugh. “Are you okay?” Costia asked when she broke away, and her hands went to check her mother’s sides. Lexa brushed her concern away gently. “I’m fine, but we’re not finished yet.” She said bracingly, and with a nod, mother and daughter returned to the fray.

Roan had successfully fought off the survivors with Avery’s help, and on the other side of the room Octavia and Lincoln were in the middle of battling a group of blue coats. Costia raced over to where Sterling was currently being crushed by Ontari, and finally noticing the dangerous hiss of bullets whizzing past their heads, Lexa swooped down to retrieve a now ownerless M16 rifle and provided cover fire until Costia had made it safely. Then Lexa saw a flash of blonde hair, and she rushed over to where the source of color had originated from. Clarke was cornered between two fallen columns, bullets flying haphazardly at her head, and Lexa vaulted over one of the columns, landing right next to her wife. Clarke spun around, prepared for a fight. Her eyes filled with happiness when she saw her, and Clarke gave her a wild grin. “You’re alive.” She shouted over the fire fight.

“I made a promise, remember?” Lexa shouted back, and Clarke laughed. The latter lifted her rifle over the column and fired a spray of bullets at the Azgeda agents before she ducked down again to take in the sight of her wife. Her pig-headed, brilliant wife who she was going to kill when they got home, but then kiss until her lips were bleeding and chapped. She drove her crazy, and she needed to know that.

“I love you!” Clarke yelled, and Lexa’s grin split across her entire face. Lexa pulled Clarke into her arms, and they met in a passionate, heated kiss. They broke apart when they heard more explosions. Raven’s signal.

Clarke pulled Lexa to her feet, and with Lexa firing over the column, Clarke threw a grenade at the cluster of blue coats waiting for them. The explosive was enough to disorient them, and Clarke gestured empathetically to Lexa. “Let’s go!” She shouted, and Lexa didn’t need to be told twice.

Lorin shouted them down. “Over here!” The woman was at the broken glass window, a helicopter waiting for them. Lexa pushed Clarke forward. “Go first, I’ll get the others!”

“Like hell you will!” Clarke retorted. “We’re getting them together!” Lexa bit back a retort, and nodded assent instead. There was no time. The entire floor was going to collapse in on itself. Even as they rushed to find their people, Lexa heard the crumbling, and saw beams fall to the ground.

In desperation, Lexa scoured the room. Costia had just put down a blue coat when she saw Lexa’s urgent gaze. “Get to Lorin!” Lexa shouted, and Costia nodded and raced off, grabbing Sterling by the arm as she did so.

Octavia and Lincoln were helping Brown, and Clarke was rushing over to intervene as well. That left Avery unaccounted for. Lexa searched earnestly, running the circumference of the flaming room. She heard a groan of pain behind her, and when she spun around she saw Avery under a fallen support beam. “Hey, wake up!” She shouted, and the young Blake had blinked open her eyes, realization dawning in them. Lexa shoved her hands under the beam, pushing with as much strength as she could. It only budged a little, and she gritted her teeth as she pushed with her legs. All around them, wood and plaster was falling. “Leave me!” Avery implored her, but Lexa was not going to do that. She closed her eyes and doubled her efforts, pushing with the last reserves of her strength. Finally, it was high enough that the agent could slip through. “Go!” Lexa shouted, and Avery moved as fast as she could. Once she was out from under the beam, Lexa dropped it and shoved the younger woman harshly. “Move!” She ordered, and Avery obeyed instantly.

Lincoln saw Avery limping, and he rushed over to sweep her up in his arms. The father loped off to the helicopter, and Lexa quickly took one more look around the room. Costia and Clarke were ahead of her, and she took a step forward to sprint after them when suddenly she felt the cold kiss of a knife enter her lower back. With an almost eerie detachment, Lexa watched as the blade came through her abdomen. Before she could react, the blade was wrenched out of her, and she fell. Costia had chosen that moment to look over her shoulder for her mother, and that’s when she saw Lexa collapse to her knees.

“Mom!” Costia screamed. Alain stood over her mother’s fallen figure, knife in hand, and then she saw red. She raced over and punched at him. He ducked, and countered with a jab that left her right ear singing. “Mother?” He repeated, and his manic brown eyes gleamed. “I should have known, of course they would have a child together.” He elbowed her in the stomach, and she fell to the ground. “Of course _she_ would barely give a second thought about finding her first child.” Alain lifted his boot, about to crush her face. Before he could, she jerked away and leapt to her feet. “What the hell are you talking about?” She snarled at him, and he smiled wickedly at the realization that she was in the dark.

“You don’t know?” He taunted, and then he moved so fast she barely saw the fist until it was inches from her face. She lifted both forearms up, blocking the punch.

“Know what?” She hissed.

She jumped back as he traded blow for blow. He has faster, and much stronger and vicious. She retreated, covering her face with her forearms before she kicked him directly in the nose. Alain let out a wild cry of rage, and then he punched her hard in the chest.

As she fell to the ground, Alain towered over her, and a wicked grin amassed over his features. “You want to know your mother’s darkest secret?” He hissed as he dragged her up by the scruff of her neck until he held her above his head. He shook her violently, and then he revealed his knowledge. “I am Clarke’s son.”

Costia went pale with shock and astonishment, and his hands went around her neck. He was squeezing the life right out of her lungs. Her legs kicked desperately, but she was growing weaker by the second.

“Put her down!” Clarke shouted, and she was standing in front of them, Lexa’s Walther trained on Alain. He turned to her, and he did not acknowledge her order. “Hello, mother.” He said with wicked glee. Clarke’s face immediately drained of all her color. “You’re…you can’t be my son.” She stumbled over the word, and he dropped Costia to the ground. She wheezed for air, and then immediately searched for Lexa.

In the time that they had been fighting, Lorin had raced over, and was hauling Lexa’s unconscious body over her shoulders. She caught Costia’s gaze, and she shouted at her to come with her. But she was rooted to the spot, here with Clarke.

“What are you going to do now?” Alain said quietly. “Will you shoot the son that you had forgotten? The son that you gave away, so that you could have her?” He jerked his head at Costia, and Clarke was frozen, looking at him in such despair that Costia’s heart clenched with fear.

Without a second word, Alain reached over and slapped the Walther away from Clarke’s hand. He grabbed her by the neck, and the positions were immediately reversed as he worked to choke the life out of a catatonic Clarke. But while Clarke was unwilling to shoot him, Costia certainly was not.

Costia dived for the Walther, and from her position on the ground she shot Alain in the shoulder. He instantly dropped Clarke, and as he howled in pain Costia rushed over. “Come on!” She shouted at her mother, and she dragged her by the arm towards the helicopter. The floor was crumbling, and the immediate danger and her daughter’s urgent tone seemed to wake Clarke from her living nightmare. She jolted, and she wrapped her arm around Costia’s waist as the two of them sprinted towards the window. The collapse had forced Raven to hover the helicopter a meter away from the open window, and Clarke looked at Costia. They would have to jump.

On the helicopter, Lorin reached out towards them, and taking Clarke’s hand, Costia nodded. They jumped together, and when her feet touched the metal floor, Costia fell into Lorin’s arms.

Clarke recovered instantly and got to her feet. Her eyes swiveled wildly, and found Lexa. Her wife was lying on one of the cabin benches, lower back and abdomen bandaged crudely. She was losing a lot of blood, and Octavia was pressing hard against Lexa’s side in a vain attempt to stop the flow. Clarke looked at her in complete despair, and then she jerked awake. She would not lose her wife.

“Give me a tube, she needs a transfusion.” Her voice was unnaturally calm, as she swung over to Lexa’s side. Lincoln immediately passed the needles and the plastic tubing, and Clarke rolled up her own sleeve.

“Wait!” Lincoln moved to stop her, but she shook away his concern.

“She’s a universal recipient!” She shouted in response. Satisfied with her answer, Lincoln stabbed Lexa with one needle, and Clarke poked the other into her own arm. She watched as her blood flowed through the tube and into Lexa’s arm, and she sighed. Lexa’s breathing started to even out, and Clarke let out a breath she was not aware she had been holding. "Stay with me, you're going to be all right." Clarke murmured the words into Lexa's skin, kissing her forehead as Raven flew them up and away from the wreckage.

Lexa was stable, for now.


	10. Chapter 10

Lexa came to slowly. And in her opinion, much slower when compared to her younger days. The minute she had regained consciousness, she was greeted with the hushed voices of Clarke and Anya.

The two women were deep in conversation, and she caught the tail-end of it before they noticed that she had opened her eyes. Anya cut herself off, her eyes wide when she saw her, and she broke off into a smile. Clarke, whose head had been turned away from Lexa, faced her, a tender smile on her lips. “Hey you.” She greeted her with a kiss on her forehead.

“How long have I been out?” Lexa croaked, her throat dry from misuse. She tested the strength in her limbs, finding that ache in her lower back. She felt a sudden pang of fear when she couldn’t move her legs. The panic must have shown on her face because Clarke rushed to assuage it.

“It’s just anesthetic, the doctor didn’t want you thrashing around and accidentally causing nerve damage.” Clarke informed her gently, taking her hand. Lexa felt her fingers interlace with her, and she closed her eyes and exhaled loudly.

“Thank God.” Lexa sighed, and Anya chuckled.

“I agree, you’d be a terrible paraplegic.” Anya said dryly, and Lexa laughed weakly while Clarke shot her a censoring glare.

Lexa was careful not to tear her stitches, and she moved slowly into a sitting position with Clarke’s help. “Don’t push yourself too hard.” Clarke warned her, and Lexa touched her wife on the shoulder in assurance.

“I won’t.” She promised, and her wife made a show of fluffing her pillow for her. Anya watched it with a knowing smirk, and Lexa could easily predict what she was thinking.

“Look at you two.” Anya said, voice filled with amusement. “The old married couple, this time for real.” Lexa grinned, and she had to agree. “Well at least I’m not as whipped as you.” She retorted, and Anya raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” She feigned offence, one hand over her bandaged chest. “Raven and I are a perfectly balanced couple.”

“Say that again when Raven’s here, then we’ll know for sure.” Lexa smirked, and Anya huffed behind the palm of her hand, laughter brimming in her eyes. Lexa’s gaze flickered over at Clarke, expecting her to join in. And while she did laugh lightly, Lexa noticed the dark look in her blue eyes. Something was troubling her. Lexa folded her hands on top of her stomach, tapping her fingers together. “Hey Anya, could you give us a minute?” She asked. Anya gave her a questioning glance, but when Lexa gestured with her eyebrows at the other woman in the room, a look of understanding came upon her features.

“Yea sure. I’ll come back in an hour?” Lexa nodded, and slowly, Anya got to her feet. She used the mobile IV as support as she limped out with a wave and a smirk. Once she had left, the door closing quietly behind her, Lexa turned her attention to her wife.

“You’re quiet.” She observed, and Clarke hummed. The blonde was sitting with her hands in her lap, worrying her lip. All of her typical habits when something was on her mind. “Is it Costia?”  When Clarke shook her head, Lexa tapped her chin in thought. “Lorin and Costia?”

“No-wait, Lorin _and_ Costia?” Clarke jerked her head up to meet Lexa’s eyes, and the woman snapped her mouth shut quickly.

“Uh nothing, forget I said that.” Lexa said evasively, and Clarke squinted at her.

“No way, what do you mean by Lorin and Costia?” Clarke folded her arms over her chest. She was giving Lexa the look. The one that said spill or else. Lexa closed her eyes momentarily, cursing herself for being so dimwitted. Finally, after working her jaw to stall, she said: “They’re in a relationship.”

Clarke looked shocked, eyes wide. But after a moment, a thoughtful expression overtook her features. “You know, now that you mention it, I thought she was a little friendlier to Cos.”

“Friendlier” Lexa repeated with a scoff. “She was so obvious!” The brunette chuckled at her wife’s obliviousness, and Clarke punched her lightly on the shoulder. “Oh shut up.” She mumbled, a blush forming on her cheeks. “I’ve been distracted.” At the admission, Clarke’s previous lightheartedness dimmed.

“By what?” Lexa asked gently, and Clarke pursed her lips. Then she moved to take one of Lexa’s hands again.

“You remember what I told you, a few years after we had moved into our place in Verona?” She asked, and Lexa tried to hide her bewilderment at the mention of such a random subject. It had been so long ago that she had to rack her memory, and when she finally vaguely remembered, she asked. “You mean when you told me about the kid that you gave up for adoption?” When Clarke nodded, Lexa frowned. “What about him?”

“Well,” Clarke started, and she toyed with Lexa’s fingers, other hand reaching tentatively toward the general direction of the stab wound that her wife had suffered. Lexa watched as she gently brushed over the area, the hospital gown providing little cover from the bandages that lay beneath. She seemed particularly transfixed on the wound, and Lexa reached out to her. “Clarke?”

That seemed to wake her from her momentary lapse, and she blinked her eyes to clear the previously cloudy visage that she had worn. “Do you remember why I said that I shouldn’t try to find him?” Clarke asked sharply, and Lexa answered somewhat cautiously. “You said that if you made contact, the possibility of him becoming hurt to get to you would increase.”

Clarke stared hard at her, and nodded imperceptibly. “Well it didn’t work.”

“What?” Lexa was even more confused by Clarke’s rambling. “Clarke what are you talking about?”

“He stabbed you!” She blurted, and Lexa squinted her eyes, even more bewildered than before. “Alain is my son. The one that I gave up after Finn died.” Clarke clarified, and she swallowed thickly like it had pained her to admit it.

Lexa jaw dropped, dumbstruck. After she got over her initial shock, she took the time to examine the other woman. Clarke had an expression of guilt and regret. She was blaming herself for this, and Lexa would not allow that. “Clarke, you couldn’t have known.”

“Well I should have.” Clarke confessed, quiet with regret. “If I had just kept him, maybe he wouldn’t have turned into this.” She looked away, expression desolate and despairing. Lexa tsked in protest, and she made a few wane attempts to comfort her, but her body would not permit it. “Damn it, Clarke, please look at me.” When her wife finally did as she had asked, Lexa shook her head gently. “You were doing what you thought was right.” Clarke looked away again, and Lexa cursed under her breath distressed that in the moment of Clarke’s need, she could not give her the adequate support she required. “Clarke, you were protecting him. I remember that you said,” Lexa reached out vainly with her hand as she spoke, “I remember you said, that when you gave him away, it was like your heart had been ripped out of your chest.”

Clarke’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears, and Lexa shuffled as much as she could to be closer to her. “But I did it anyway.” Clarke snapped, and Lexa knew she was angry with herself. The harshness of her tone was not meant to hurt her. She was only a scapegoat.

“Because your intent was to give him a normal life.” Lexa argued. “Clarke, you could have resigned, gotten out and raised him yourself. But you didn’t. Because you felt, deep down, that you still had more to do for your country.” Lexa dipped her head down in a vain attempt to meet Clarke’s eyes. “And do you remember that other thing you said?” She asked rhetorically. “You said that if you had left ASIS, you never would have met me, or had Cos.”

Clarke sighed at the use of her own words against her. All of her insecurities, all of her second-guessing, it could not compare to what Lexa had just reminded her of. That when she had made the decision to give her son away, she did it knowing the consequences. “Of course I remember.” She said tearfully. “I just can’t help the feeling of guilt, that if I had given him love, maybe he wouldn’t have become a criminal.” For the first time in twenty-five years together, Lexa was unsure of what to say. And Clarke seemed to sense it, and she sighed. “I should have known, really.” Clarke said, her voice taking on a faraway note. “When Luna showed us a picture at the briefing, I thought he looked familiar.” She gave a watery chuckle. “At first I thought, I probably saw him on the street. But I know now, because I see the slope of his nose, the height of his brow, and I see me. I see me, and I see Finn.”

Lexa was silent for a few moments. She allowed herself to build some courage before she reached out, and this time Clarke took her hand. “Clarke, even if you had kept him, there’s no predicting what would have happened when he grew up. When he made his own choices, just like our daughter did.”  Lexa took in the sight of her wife, the inconsolable despair on her features, and in this moment, watching Clarke’s heart break, Lexa fell madly, desperately in love with her again.

“You sacrificed your happiness,” Lexa stated quietly, “but you did it because you knew that you were too young and unequipped to be a mother to him.” She brushed her fingers along Clarke’s cheek, wiping away the tears that had started to roll down from her eyes. “At the end of the day, it was his destiny to become who he is now, and nothing you can do now can possibly change the past.” Lexa said consolingly. “Think about it,” She said, “Finn had just died, and you had made Senior Agent. There was no other choice then, and there’s no changing it now.” Clarke released a shaky sob, and she collapsed into Lexa’s side, careful not to hurt her. Lexa wrapped her arms around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head affectionately.

She heard the door creak open, and Lexa looked up. It was Costia. And from her remorseful expression, she had heard everything. Without speaking, Lexa gestured for her to come over. Her daughter padded over cautiously. Clarke wiped her eyes, and slowly pulled away from the brunette. She owed her daughter some answers. But from the knowing look on Costia’s face, there was nothing she needed to say.

Awkwardly, she shuffled over from the doorway, looking down shyly. Yet Costia seemed intuitive enough to sense what her mother needed, and she moved closer to Lexa’s bedside. “It’s okay Mom, I understand everything.” She gave her an accepting smile. “You had a life before you met Mom, or had me.” She ended, clearly uncomfortable referencing her mother’s previous marriage. She could hardly imagine her moms being with other people, let alone Clarke having another child. But she could understand – or try to at least – for her family.

“You’re really okay with this?” Clarke asked shakily, and Costia nodded, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, awkwardly looking at her mother with a tilted head. “Yea, I get it.” She said, and there was no faking the firm note in her voice. Clarke held out her arms, baring herself for a hug. But she wasn’t going to force her daughter into it. She would let her decide on her own terms. Costia glanced over her shoulder at Lexa, who gave her a reassuring nod. It was up to her. They were going to respect her decision, whatever she chose.

And as that realization dawned on her, Costia felt that part of her soul, disturbed and wrestling in turmoil for so long, suddenly disappear. What once was an earthquake shaking at the very core of her being now had become as still as the surface of a lake. Without any second thought, Costia moved into her mother’s arms, and she felt something inside her click. She felt like a child once more, protected in the strong embrace of her fierce mother. She closed her eyes, chin resting on Clarke’s shoulder, and she released a sigh of content.

From the hospital bed, Lexa drank in the sight of her family finally reunited, and she allowed a tear of happiness fall from her eyes. Her heart felt infinitely expanded when the nurse had first placed a crying, newborn Costia in her arms, and when she had looked down at the bundle in her arms, she knew she was a goner. Seeing her now, grown up, independent, and self-assured, Lexa felt her heart balloon outward with the fierceness of her love for her. Her love for Clarke just as assured, and when Costia reached out one hand to her, she took it with a teary smile. Costia seemed awkward, unsure of how to handle the two strongest women in her life weeping. “So, do you have any long lost, secret kids that I should know about?” She asked jokingly, and Lexa chuckled.

“Nope, just you, kiddo.” She squeezed her daughter’s fingers. “It was always you.” Costia returned her smile, and Lexa felt at peace. Finally.

Their peace was broken when there was a ringing noise. It was coming from Clarke’s phone. The woman released her daughter reluctantly, and she pulled the offending object out from her jacket pocket. She frowned, and Lexa’s peace was suspended once more. “What is it?”

“It’s an unknown number.” Clarke said, frowning. Costia waited with bated breath, and Lexa watched as Clarke answered via speakerphone. “Hello?” She asked. Lexa and Costia were quiet as they waited, then finally there was a response.

“Ah, Mother.” Alain’s voice could be heard clearly from the other side of the connection. Costia stiffened, and she instinctively shuffled closer to Lexa, whose eyes narrowed immediately.

Clarke met Lexa’s steely gaze before she answered. “What do you want, Alain?”

“Tsk tsk,” Alain laughed, “can’t I just call you to see how dear old step-mummy is doing?” Costia looked like she wanted to break the phone with her bare hands as much as she wanted to snap at him, and Lexa shook her head at her, a hand over her lips to keep her silent.

“If you think you can kill her so easily, then you don’t understand the strength of my family at all.” Clarke retorted, her voice steady.

Alain laughed, almost cruelly. “Yes, your family. The one that you chose.” He said. “The one that you decided was good enough for you.” Clarke’s eyes glazed over slightly in pain, and Lexa made a calming motion with her hands. _Stay strong_ , she mouthed, and Clarke’s expression tightened.

“What is your true purpose in calling?” She asked coldly. “Clearly this is not a conjugal phone call.”

“No, it is not.” Alain agreed. “I have a proposition for you.” Lexa immediately shook her head, but Clarke waved her off.

“What?”

“I am about to leave New York.” Alain said almost mournfully. “After you and your people killed all of the Ice Nation’s lieutenants, destroyed the Azgeda building, and froze all of the company’s assets, what remained of the blue coats have fled. Before I go, I want to thank you, for destroying my one greatest creation.” The wickedness in his tone, the anger and the hatred, all of it made Lexa’s spine tingle, and she clenched her fists.

“Where?” Clarke asked, and Lexa’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

“The remains of Azgeda. Tonight.” He replied. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding it.” The line clicked, then it went dead.

Lexa stared at Clarke like she had sprouted two heads. “Are you insane?” She said slowly like she would not understand. Next to her, Costia looked both ill and determined.

“No.” Clarke answered her wife casually enough as she pocketed her phone.

“Then why would you agree to meet with him?”

“Because I want this to end.” Clarke crossed her arms, and she met Lexa’s gaze almost serenely. “I don’t want our family to live in the shadows any longer.” Lexa’s jaw was hanging, and she looked at her for a few heartbeats.

Slowly, Lexa turned to their daughter. “Cos, do you agree with this?” The girl swallowed, then she dipped her head in assent. “Let’s end this.”

“Then I guess I’m outvoted on this one.” Lexa sighed. “Let’s get ready.” Both Clarke and Costia snapped their heads at her, and she gave them a quizzical look. “What?”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Clarke said, and her tone left no room to argue, even though Lexa rather futilely opened her mouth to protest.

“But Clarke, you need me to watch your back.” She reasoned, and Clarke scoffed.

“Not you.” She stated firmly. “Not when you’re still at risk of potential nerve damage.” Lexa looked at her incredulously, then she attempted to convince their daughter.

“Cos?” She asked hopefully, and the girl in question hid her smile behind her hand before she answered.

“I’m pretty sure Anya told me you’re supposed to be using a wheelchair for the next few weeks.” She pointed out in a falsely helpful tone.  

Lexa’s jaw dropped, but before she could snap at her, Clarke leaned over and kissed her gently on the mouth. “Hush.” She scolded her. “What are you going to do? Roll the wheels with one hand and hold your gun in the other?”

“Maybe.” Lexa mumbled petulantly as she crossed her arms indignantly. Both Clarke and Costia laughed, and then Clarke ran her fingers through Lexa’s wavy brown hair.

“If it will make you feel better, I can get Lorin to come with us.” Costia suggested, and Clarke agreed with a hum. “Lex?” Clarke asked almost playfully. Lexa rolled her eyes.

“Fine.”

* * *

 

When they arrived, Alain was not alone either. Ontari had her arms crossed, chin tilted arrogantly as she stood to the side. On the other hand, Alain was in the middle of the rubble-filled main first floor – or a least what remained of it, feet shoulder-width apart. He had his 10mm in his hand, and he had a smug grin on his face as Clarke came into view. Lorin and Costia were a few steps behind her, handguns at their sides.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come.” He said, and Clarke stood a few meters away with her arms crossed.

“Alain.” She appealed to him. “Drop the weapon and come in with us to the DIA.” She said. “I know that you’re disappointed in me, but please don’t throw your life away.” She looked at him earnestly, and he glared at her.

His laugh only slightly surprised her. “Do you think I care what happens to me now?” He asked rhetorically. “You ruined me the minute you chose to give me up.”

She tried not to flinch, but he noticed the quiver in her chin and he pressed his advantage. “Nia talked about how you were the Commander of Death, how you carried out an operation that had an entire city full of people killed in cold blood.” Clarke straightened her shoulders, unwilling to show weakness at the mention of that op.

“You’ve killed more, I’m sure.” She returned icily, and Alain laughed crudely.

“Well yes, I supposed the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” He retorted. His expression was filled with aggression and pure hatred. The heat of his glare was enough to make Clarke feel regret and desolation. In her earlier years trying to imagine what it would be like to finally meet her son, she never would have imagined this.

“Alain, please, drop the weapon. Let me take you in.” She tried once more. “You’re my son, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Take me in?” Alain laughed. “What made you think that I would ever willingly surrender, least of all to you? You, the woman who gave away her infant son, only to later start a family again. A family that actually met her standards.”

“It wasn’t like that at all.” Clarke said. “Giving you away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” She confessed, and Alain scoffed loudly.

“Then why did you do it?” He sneered. “Afraid you’d start caring for me?”

“Because I didn’t want to ruin you!” She shouted. Clarke clamped her mouth shut, jaw clenched. She took a calming breath before she continued. “Your father and I had just separated, then before I could tell him that I was pregnant, he died.”

“So you couldn’t tough it out on your own?” He sneered, and Clarke flinched.

“No.” She said, voice subdued. “I knew that I wouldn’t be able to leave the agency, not when my people depended on me. But I knew that the family that adopted you would give you a good life, a normal life.”

“Well that didn’t matter!” Alain hissed. “They might have been nice, but they weren’t my blood. My blood gave me away.” He shot daggers at his mother. “I gave up on searching for you. A name like yours, hard to miss. And hard to find.” He snarled. “And I was ready to move on. Then Nia ordered me to put out a hit on Lexa Woods and Clarke Griffin.” He smirked at her. “And now, I get my revenge.”

Clarke bit her lip, frowning at him. His expression was cold, and she knew in that moment that he truly was lost to her. “If it’s revenge you want, then take it.”  She sighed, and Alain gave her a look of pure disdain, lip curling.

“Killing you would be of no use to me.” He snarled. “No, I’m going to kill every single person you love. Because if you never cared for me, then I will take away all the people you care about. Then you’ll understand what you’ve done to me.” Alain promised her vilely, and Clarke shook with a mixture of helplessness and anger. Anger at not being able to reason with her son, and anger at being forced to watch him tumbled into the abyss of no return.

“So I’m going to kill that bitch Director over there,” Alain jerked his head aggressively at Lorin, “and I’m going to kill your daughter right before your eyes.” Clarke’s eyes lit up in fury.

“Don’t you dare threaten them.” She hissed, and Alain chuckled mirthlessly.

“Like you can stop me.” He taunted her. “I almost killed your wife. The Commander was every bit impressive as Nia said. Too bad I failed.” Alain’s eyes gleamed wickedly. “But I’ll succeed next time.” He checked his watch casually. “She’s at Sinai, right? Room 804? Only a few doors down from your friend, Anya, right?” Alain reached into his back pocket, pulling out his smartphone. “Ah, and here they are.” He angled the screen so that Clarke and the others could see.

Sure enough, she saw the outside of the hospital and a familiar head of wavy brown hair in the crosshairs through the window. “I press this button, and goodbye Commander.” Alain said with a smirk. “Ready to watch your beloved wife die?” His thumb almost made contact with the screen when Clarke leapt at him.

She knocked the phone out of his hand, delivering a quick punch to his gut. He yelped in outrage and responded with a kick that narrowly missed her head. In retaliation, Clarke punched him in the shoulder – the shoulder that Costia had shot. Alain yowled in pain, but then, with lightning-fast reflexes, he snatched her arm and twisted as he held her in front of him

There was a cracking noise in her wrist, and she refused to shout out. Instead, she snapped her head back, and the sickening crunch of his nose breaking was enough for her to wriggle free from him.

Given the momentary freedom, Clarke quickly checked on Lorin and Cos. The two were engaged in a fight with Ontari, the girl skillfully holding her own against them. There was movement behind her, and then she jumped away at the last second. Alain just narrowly missed hitting her clean in the face, and she circled around him. They exchanged a flurry of violent strikes, each one more deadly than the last.

Clarke was taken by surprise when Alain landed one blow, kicking her hard in the knee. As her leg buckled, she attempted to counter with a punch, but he caught her arm and pulled her up to him. His arm went around her neck, and suddenly it was hard to breathe.

She felt her face grow red with the lack of oxygen, and Clarke was about to lose consciousness. Dimly, she hoped that Lexa wouldn’t blame herself for not being here, and Clarke closed her eyes, ready to die.

Suddenly the arm around her was gone, and she gasped desperately for air. She looked around, one hand around her neck, and she saw Costia and Lorin. They had defeated Ontari, who was lying motionless a short distance away.

Helpless and unable to move, Clarke was resigned to watch the two agents in action. They moved as one, exchanging blows with Alain and moving seamlessly. It was like they could read each other’s minds. Lexa was right. But before she could even celebrate, Alain kicked Costia in the gut. She fell with a cry of pain, and when Lorin turned instinctively to check on her, that’s when Alain tackled Lorin.

Alain had her on the ground, his knee on her neck. He was going to squish the life right out of her. “Alain, stop!” Clarke shouted desperately, but Alain paid her no mind. He was going to kill her, and there was nothing _she_ could do about it.

Then she saw Costia recover, and Clarke moved quickly, reaching for the Walther at her belt. “Cos!” she shouted, and she slid the pistol towards her. Her intent was clear, and when Costia’s fingers closed around the barrel of the weapon, she aimed it right at Alain and fired.

Alain collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest. Lorin audibly gulped in air, and Costia rushed to her side, dropping the Walther to the ground. “Hey, look at me.” Costia said urgently, hand on Lorin’s cheek. Lorin looked up, momentarily dazed. Then she blinked her blue eyes, and recognition glimmered there. “I’m okay.” She promised Costia, who cradled her head gently. Slowly, Lorin got to her feet with Costia’s support, and the two walked over to where Clarke stood over Alain.

He was bleeding out fast, the light of his eyes quickly dimming as Clarke looked him over one last time. She crouched down at his head, and despite all that he had done, she could not ignore the heartbreak in her chest. “I’m sorry that I gave you away.” Clarke said quietly to him, and he glanced up at her, nothing but loathing and hurt shining back at his mother. “You kept your daughter.” He gurgled through the blood in his throat, “What made her different?”

“I was different.” She said simply. “I would have searched for you, after I quit. But I knew that any contact, it could endanger your life.”

“Well you didn’t, and I ended up here anyway.” Alain snarled. He coughed out blood, then he spat at her: “I will never forgive you.” He hissed. “Not for leaving me, nor the fact that you never cared.”

“You’re wrong.” Clarke said softly, “I never stopped caring for you.” She whispered to him. That only seemed to enrage him further and his throat bubbled defiantly. Then he jerked once more, and she watched as the boy that she held in her hands died before her.

“Mom.” Costia took a tentative step forward, her hand cautiously placed on Clarke’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” She asked urgently.

Clarke took a deep breath, her hand going down to gently close Alain’s eyes.  She closed her eyes, shaking visibly. She stood unsteadily, one leg still singing in pain, and she turned to face her daughter. She nodded slowly to her, and Costia tackled her mother in a hug. When Clarke gently pulled away, she gave her a wan smile. Turning her head to address Lorin as well, she said: “Let’s go home.”


	11. Chapter 11

Since Clarke and Costia had departed, Lexa had been anxiously awaiting some sort of signal that they were okay. At some point, Anya and Raven had come to visit her, along with Lincoln and Avery and her twin sister Rose. It had been a treat to see Rose for the second time. She was completely unlike her twin; while Avery was all hard lines and muscle, Rose was soft and gentle. Working as an analyst for the FBI, Rose was a self-proclaimed nerd. She wore her dark brown hair in a ponytail, and her large tortoiseshell glasses slipped from the bridge of her nose every five minutes, prompting her to correct their position almost instinctively as she talked with her father and Lexa. While Avery was loud and assertive, Rose was quiet and soft-spoken. She was gentle and kind, while Avery was brash and brimming with sarcasm and sharp wit. Yet the two sisters co-existed in perfect harmony, finishing each other’s thoughts and answering for the other with the familiarity of two individuals who knew the ins and outs of each other. The stark contrast between them was refreshing to Lexa, and not for the first time she wondered what it would have been like if Costia had grown up with a sibling.

They were a good and welcome distraction, and Lexa had enjoyed the company of her friends. But eventually, her concern for her wife and daughter became too much, and she feigned tiredness so that her visitors would leave. Lincoln had patted her gently on the knee, and Rose had given her a quick hug goodbye.

“I’ll come back later.” Anya told her sternly, and Lexa knew she was not going to allow her to refuse. She simply nodded, and Raven took Anya’s hand, leading her out to her own room after winking at Lexa. The moment she was alone again, Lexa worried her lip and tapped her foot. She turned on the television, but even the Red Sox soundly destroying the Jays in the ninth inning could distract her from her thoughts.

So when Clarke had returned to Lexa’s side in the hospital, the brunette had jerked up from the bed. It was clear that she desperately wished to rush over to her. But any other movement beyond pushing herself up into a sitting position was immediately discouraged with a stern look that Clarke shot her way. Instead, Clarke had strode over to her, wordlessly falling into the gentle embrace that Lexa offered when she opened her arms wide to her. She smelled of gunpowder, blood, and sweat, and Lexa inhaled her scent almost greedily, happy that she had returned to her. Lexa had kissed the top of her head, hand stroking her back soothingly. “Cos?”

“She’s okay.” Lexa’s previously stiffened spine relaxed, and Clarke could feel her wife’s muscles soften.

“And Alain?” When Clarke simply buried her face into her neck, Lexa knew. Gently, Lexa kissed the head of blonde hair, arms tightening around her as much as her injury would allow. She felt wetness on the skin of her neck and shoulder, and Lexa soothed her with gentle murmurs in her ear.

“We’ll be all right.” Lexa promised, and Clarke believed her. Lexa closed her eyes, and as Clarke curled up at her side into a more comfortable position, she felt a peace that she had not experienced before. It was finally over.

* * *

 

_Two weeks later_

“Come on babe, you got this.” Clarke encouraged her, and gripping either side of the bars until her knuckles were white, Lexa slowly put one foot in front of the other. She was in her third week of rehab, and it was going surprisingly well. Granted, learning to walk had been a pain in the ass, but Lexa was too pleased that she could walk at all to complain. Too much, at least.

Her legs were starting to feel stronger, the muscles beginning to remember their purpose. With increasingly more confident strides, Lexa walked from one side of the parallel bars to where her wife waited at the other end. “Well look at that.” Clarke said, biting back a grin at the sight of Lexa. She was a newborn foal, unsteady on skinny legs, knees wobbling slightly, and she couldn’t help the warm feeling that rose in her chest.

“I know right?” Lexa grinned at her openly, and she moved to step closer to Clarke until their noses brushed. She dipped her head down to kiss her wife affectionately, pleased with the progress she had made today. Clarke returned the kiss eagerly, and one hand wandered down to grip Lexa’s ass.

“Okay guys, let’s try to keep everything PG.” The rehabilitation specialist reminded them wearily as he looked away awkwardly. It wasn’t the first time he had to tell them that, and at this point he had an inkling that they didn’t care.

Clarke broke away from her wife, and smirked cheekily at him. “Sorry, she was just too cute to resist.” She punctuated her sentence by squeezing Lexa’s ass, and her wife let out a squeak of surprise. “And she deserved a reward for how steady she was walking.”

“Well you’re right.” The specialist agreed. “Lexa, with the progress I’m seeing, there’s no reason why you can’t be out of the wheelchair and using crutches next week.

Lexa pumped her fist in the air, and she her legs almost collapsed under her when she lost that extra support. Clarke leaned closer, wrapping an arm around her waist to act as her human crutch. “I’ve got you.” Clarke assured her, squeezing tight with her fingers on Lexa’s hip. With the way she was looking at Lexa, the brunette knew she meant more than just at this moment.

The specialist left shortly, citing the end of their session, and then it was just Clarke and Lexa alone in the room. The rehab quarters in the hospital had a perfect view of the bustling Manhattan district outside, and as Lexa leaned heavily against her wife, she tangled their fingers together as they watched the sun dip below the horizon.

 

* * *

 

“To Clarke and Lexa’s retirement, hopefully for the last time!” There was an audible groan from Lexa at Luna’s words, to the great amusement of everyone else who stood in a circle, drinks clinking as they toasted the Woods-Griffin partnership’s second retirement. Lincoln patted Lexa on the shoulder, shooting her a grin. “For the second and last time.” He added, and she rolled her eyes at him, biting back the smile forming over her face.

“And please, just stay retired Moms.” Costia remarked, and Lexa openly released a bark of laughter. Clarke shook her head in mock-indignant, but she wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

“just as long as you young guns can hold down the fort, I can guarantee that we will.” She promised her, and she gave her a wet kiss on the cheek, fully intending to embarrass her in front of the others.

“Mom!” She protested, more as a game than actual embarrassment, and Lexa grinned widely. Costia wiggled away from her mother, a playful glint in her eyes. Lexa nudged Lorin with her elbow. “Go on, go save your girl.” She encouraged her teasingly, and Costia whipped her head at her other mother with a glare. “I don’t need Lorin to save me, I can save myself!” She huffed, and Lexa barked in laughter as Costia pulled Lorin by the arm, leading her away to the barbeque.

“Damn straight!” Lexa called after her daughter’s retreating back, and Clarke rolled her eyes at her wife’s antics. “I raised my daughter well.”

“We raised her well, you mean.” Clarke corrected her swiftly, and Octavia bumped her shoulder.

“Obviously,” Octavia agreed innocently, “who else could she have inherited her pigheadedness from than you, Clarke?”

Lexa choked on her beer, and Anya thumped her hard on the back.  Meanwhile Clarke was looking at Octavia with incredulity. “Excuse me? Lexa’s the pigheaded one!” Lexa let the two of them bicker, and she hobbled off to grab another drink.

They were barbequing at Octavia and Lincoln’s house, milling about in the lush green of their backyard. Avery and Rose were talking animatedly with Luna, while Roan slouched in a lawn chair, dozing off in the warm evening sun. The Blakes’ dogs yipped and raced around in the grass field, Raven tossing a tennis ball for their entertainment as she settled down on the porch steps. Anya joined her, two beers in hand, and Lexa casually ambled over. She had gotten to the cane stage, having retired her aluminum crutches a few days ago.

She sat down next to Anya and Raven, letting her cane fall at her feet. Anya gave her a crooked grin. “So what’s next?” She asked. “Back to business in the vineyard?”

“No.” Lexa looked thoughtful as she watched the Blakes’ labradoodles roll in the grass and frolic without a care in the world. “Clarke and I have decided to stay in the city for a little while longer.”

“Want to come to our place for dinner tomorrow?” Raven offered as the dogs raced up to her, and she threw the ball again, watching them tear through the grass.

“We’d love that.” Lexa agreed easily, and Anya clinked her beer bottle against Lexa’s.

“Good, now that I’m retired now, I’ll have some more free time to catch up.” Anya said happily, and Lexa’s eyes glittered with astonishment, mouth open at the announcement. When she recovered, Lexa shot her a wide, mischievous grin. “About time.” She commented. “You’re older than me too.”

“Shut up.” Anya elbowed her in the ribs. “Only by three years.” She protested grumpily, and Raven kissed her on the cheek to mollify her.

“Gross.” Lexa fake-gagged, and Raven flipped her off casually.

Clarke chose that moment to stroll over to them, flopping down next to Lexa. “Raven, why are you flipping off my wife?” She raised an eyebrow at the other woman.

“She was being an ass.” Anya reported, and Lexa shot her a scathing look. Clarke laughed behind her hand, and she handed her wife a plate of food. “Well I guess I can’t fault you for that.” She acquiesced quickly enough, to Lexa’s chagrin.

Clarke smirked smugly at Lexa, and the brunette rolled her eyes before looking at her wife. Clarke seemed at peace. Content with the company, blissful at last. Even when they were in Verona, Clarke had never looked so relaxed. She was at home, here with the family they found.

As the evening dwindled down, the fire of the grill still burning as Lincoln flipped burger patties, Lexa stood and gently tugged Clarke away for a moment to themselves.

The two of them walked down the steps of the patio, wandering along the small garden a ways away from the rumble of the party. Ambling along in the clear moonlight, Lexa tightened her grip on Clarke’s hand, and the other woman squeezed back lightly. “So, are we retiring for good this time?” Clarke broke their amicable silence.

“I should hope so.” Lexa strolled casually, cane assisting her as she moved. “I think we’ve resolved all our unfinished business at this point.” She added, and Clarke hummed her agreement.

“Good.” Clarke murmured, and she put one arm around Lexa’s midsection as they walked along the small garden strip. Discovering that he had quite the green thumb in retirement, Lincoln had started to grow his own vegetable garden, and Lexa could already see the tomatoes starting to turn ripe.

“Clarke,” Lexa stopped in her path, and she turned to face her wife. Clarke looked up from her observation of the snow peas growing on one patch of soil, a questioning glimmer in her eyes.

“What is it?”

“I’ve given the Walther away.” Lexa announced, and Clarke’s eyes widened in surprise.

“To whom?”

“Costia, who else?” Lexa posed the question rhetorically.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Clarke said after a while, and Lexa raised one eyebrow at her.

“Yes I did.” She argued. “That gun was my last link to this life, and since Nia is dead, there’s no need to keep it any longer. This is my unequivocal exit from our previous life, Clarke.” The corner of her mouth turned upwards. “I’m done. As you said, it’s time for the young guns to take over.”

“Seriously?” Clarke searched her wife’s face for any flicker of hesitation, that maybe she was not completely at peace with her decision. But when she looked at Lexa, whose face was illuminated by the moonlight, all she saw was pure honesty and tranquility. “I love you.” She whispered to her, and Lexa pulled her close, kissing her as they were bathed in a sliver light. “I love you too.” She murmured her response into Clarke’s lips, eyes closing at the sensation of her wife’s tongue against her own as they made out like teenagers, hiding from sight to greedily grope and enjoy each other’s company.

On the patio by herself, Costia caught sight of her mothers. Ordinarily, seeing them so openly in love made her want to puke, but after everything that had happened, she just felt pleased that her parents were happy. She heard light footsteps behind her, and then a warm body pressed against her side. No words needed to be said, and Costia simply leaned back into Lorin’s embrace, taking comfort from the woman she loved. Her world might have changed with the revelation of her mothers’ past, but as she stood on the patio, surrounded by people she had never realized were extended family, she realized that it had changed for the better. For the first time in years, she was finally at peace, and she took her lover’s hand and allowed herself to enjoy it.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh, God.” She moaned. “Don’t stop, I swear, Lorin, I’m almost there.” Costia gasped into the tight space. Lorin worked furiously, pressed up against her in the small bathroom of the airplane. Her fingers pumped an ambitious pace, and Costia rolled her hips forward to meet her attentive touch. Then Lorin stroked upwards, and she groaned out her release behind the palm of her hand.

Lorin slowly removed her fingers, lifting them up to her mouth to lick them clean, and Costia’s eyes were dark with lust at the sight of it. She surged forward, and Lorin opened her mouth to her. She could taste her release on Lorin’s tongue, and her body felt ready for round two. But she reluctantly pulled away after a hot second of inner turmoil. Lorin took in huge gasps of air, just as hot and bothered as she was.

“We can pick this up later.” Costia suggested, and Lorin nodded once, their foreheads bumping.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Lorin said almost ominously, and Costia winked at her while the older woman turned on the tap to wash her hands.

“How about this,” Costia said as she buttoned up her pants, “when we land, I’ll go down on you in the hotel room.”

“Sold.” Lorin agreed quickly, and Costia laughed at her eagerness. She leaned forward to kiss her once more, then she unlocked the door and nimbly slipped out. Lorin was going to have to wait a few minutes before stepping out herself, lest the air hostess catch on to the nature of their activity.

Costia quickly found her seat in the middle row. She had an aisle seat on the flight, and she casually pulled out a book from her satchel. As she read, she used her peripherals to watch the other passengers on the plane. She heard the seatbelt sign come on, and as she looked up, she saw Lorin find her seat a few rows ahead of her.

There was some turbulence, but then after the seatbelt sign went off again, Costia kept an eye out for the bald man in the business suit seated two rows before her. He was typing on his laptop, consumed by his work, and Costia was discrete as she looked around the cabin. Almost all the lights were out, the majority of the passengers choosing wisely to sleep on the sixteen hour flight. Up ahead, she saw Lorin’s head bobbing in a very convincing manner, feigning drowsiness.

It was all quiet for now, and Costia felt herself slipping into boredom. She considered rising from her seat to convince Lorin to go for a second round, when she saw a very ordinary-looking man peek out from the curtain separating the first class cabin from the economy one. She ducked down, pretending that she had not seen him, and she used the reflection in one of the other passenger’s make-up mirror to follow the newcomer’s movements.

He stepped quietly down the aisle, moving past Lorin and over to the bald man. He looked around. There was no one awake, no one in sight. One hand pulled out a needle, and that’s when Costia moved. She struck him in the throat before he could even register her presence, and as he dropped the needle to the ground, Costia punched him hard in the face. The bald man looked up in shock, and Costia shot him a polite smile.

“He must have gotten lightheaded, sorry to disturb you.” She said, and he looked once more at her and the unconscious man in the suit before he went back to his work, and Costia moved to drag the assassin down the aisle.

Lorin rushed over, picking up the needle that the would-be assassin had dropped. “Deep vein thrombosis.” She commented as she inspected the syringe. “Discrete.”

“Ugh, are you actually giving him props?” Costia made a face, and Lorin rolled her eyes.

“No, I’m just saying that it is a very discrete method of assassination. It could have easily been ruled a natural death.”

“Okay Dr. Jekyll.” Costia said as she pulled out some handcuffs, snapping them on the assassin’s wrists.

Between the two of them, they managed to drag the man through the aisle and over to the hostesses’ access to the luggage hub in the belly of the aircraft. Costia dropped him on his ass, and she leaned against the metal sides of the rumbling plane. “He’s so heavy, he must be 100% muscle.” She complained, and Lorin shoved her shoulder. “Suck it up, buttercup.” She scolded her lightly, and Costia stuck her tongue out at her.

When the plane landed, Costia and Lorin met with the INTERPOL agents, who took the assassin off their hands gratefully. Mission complete, Costia took some time to take in the sights. She had never been to this city before. Lorin nudged her with an elbow. “You gonna move anytime soon?” She asked, and Costia nudged her back. “Okay, keep your pants on, Attorney Grumpy.” She addressed Lorin by her new title.

After discussing her next steps with Lexa, Lorin had decided to resign her position as the FBI Director, and instead had decided to put her Yale Law degree to good use as the New York State’s Attorney Office. It meant more or less the same workload, but also flexible vacation options – which worked in Costia’s favor as well.

Costia meanwhile, had been promoted to Senior Special Agent, with Avery on the same anti-terrorism unit as her. Roan was heading up their unit, now listed as the Special Agent-in-Charge, and he had grunted his reluctant assent when Costia had requested that her vacation days go into effect immediately after she had apprehended the assassin.

He had growled something about additional paperwork, but he had waved her off, his confirmation email received the next day. Now, Costia sighed happily as she and Lorin walked out of the airport hand-in-hand, openly declaring their relationship for all to see. And it only felt suiting. Rome was a romantic city, and Costia’s eyes drank it all in excitedly as they took a cab.

It was a short ride over to the café, and when she got out first, she reached for Lorin’s hand. Side-by-side, they walked over to the tables outside the brick building. People walked around them, the city abuzz with life, and Costia herself never felt more alive. When she caught sight of them, she nudged Lorin and pointed them out to her, and then the two of them strolled over with all the time in the world, Clarke and Lexa waiting for them with matching ear-to-ear grins.

She was home at last.


End file.
